Gaining Ground
by Curlyhedgehog
Summary: Sequel to Don't Look Down. Sigrid and Fili are in love, happy, planning their future. Fili would move mountains to keep anything from jeopardising Sigrid's recovery from her traumatic memories of Laketown, but he can't hold her in his arms forever, and when a threat arises, the outcome is something no-one anticipated. AU everyone lives. Figrid. Rated for sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

**_He walked around the table and stepped down from the dais, and made his way towards the centre of the hall. As they got closer, Fili could see in her hair dozens of tiny twinkling stars, wrought from mithril and white gems, and the cinch around her waist was a sash of the same design, clearly the painstaking work of master smiths at the height of their craft. But it was not Sigrid's beauty, or the gems in her hair or around her waist that caused the folk of the Mountain to murmur amongst themselves – it was a pendant hanging around Sigrid's neck, nestled close to her heart, a pendant also wrought of mithril and set with white gems, but not of a design of stars. It was Fili's emblem._**

 ** _They met in the centre of the hall, and Fili took both of Sigrid's hands in his._**

 ** _"Amrâlimê, you're a vision."_**

 ** _"It was Dis's idea," she replied, looking away from Fili's face briefly to smile at his mother._**

 ** _"I wore these at my betrothal. They need to see daylight every hundred years or so," Dis laughed. "I had the pendant made years ago." She laid her palm on Fili's cheek. "A mother's hope for her son." Fili turned his head and kissed her hand._**

 ** _"Thank you, Mother."_**

 ** _Dis grinned, her sunny eyes so like her son's. "Well, I've certainly made the entrance I was hoping for. The rest is up to you two," and she headed off through the crowd toward the honour table._**

 ** _Fili gently touched the pendant lying on Sigrid's breast. "Wearing this is a message that you're betrothed to me. Everyone can see it." He looked around at the crowd, all eyes fixed upon them, and he was reminded of their supper just three nights ago, and he smiled. "Is the crowd bothering you? I could still order them all out, you know."_**

 ** _Sigrid's gaze never left Fili's eyes. "What crowd?" And she leaned in to kiss him._**

The hall erupted with cheers, applause and the occasional good-natured catcall. They broke their kiss and looked around at the crowd, Sigrid abashed at the commotion, Fili with a huge grin. As the noise died down, he took her hand and led her back to the top of the hall, to their seats at the honour table. He settled her in, took his own seat, and leaned close to speak to her.

"Don't worry. It won't always be as bad as this."

"No, it's fine," she replied. "They're happy for you."

Fili cupped her cheek with his hand. "They're happy for _us_ ," he corrected. He helped them to food from the trays being passed along the table, then continued. "I've promised to play later on, and I want to dance with you, but then once everyone's had a few drinks, we might sneak away. What do you think? They'll never miss us."

"That sounds good," she laughed, then she stopped and tilted her head at him. "I didn't know you played?"

He grinned at her. "Fiddle." He leaned in close to her ear and lowered his voice. "You didn't expect to know everything about me after one night together, did you?" She laughed at his conspiratorial tone, but a rosy tinge still stole up her cheeks. He lifted his hand to caress it with his thumb, and his face turned serious. "You know my heart, Sigrid. The rest is just details."

She gazed at him with the soft loving look that he recalled from their breakfast in bed that morning, and he leaned across to steal a kiss. "Now stop looking at me like that, or this is going to be one very short feast."

* * *

The feast was as merry as the peoples of the three kingdoms had anticipated. Thorin briefly spoke to the crowd to thank them for their efforts over the past year, acknowledging the importance of the Mountain's alliances with Dale and the Woodland Realm, and proposed a toast to the memory of the fallen. He then surprised Fili by proposing another toast, to himself and Sigrid and their future health and happiness, and Fili was moved by the rarely-bestowed look of pride and affection in his uncle's eyes as he lifted his goblet to them both.

The crowd drank to them warmly, and began calling for a kiss, which Fili was only too happy to supply, taking Sigrid's face in both hands and kissing her soundly to renewed applause and cheers. The happy crowd then pushed the tables back, and settled in to the serious business of drinking and dancing. The band of pipers were joined by Bombur on the drum, who struck up a fast, infectious rhythm that had everyone tapping their feet or clapping along. Fili held his hand out to Sigird.

"Dance with me, my love?"

She took his hand and he led her out to the floor. It was a circle dance, the kind with lots of clapping, and he would have much preferred a partnered dance that would have allowed him to hold her close, but he felt compensated by watching the joy on her face as she danced, dissolving into peals of laughter every so often when she turned the wrong way or missed a step. He reluctantly gave her up to Thorin for the next dance, standing up next to her with Tilda as his partner, and he and Tilda were very amused to watch Sigrid trying to dodge Thorin's long locks of hair, which threatened to hit her in the face every time Thorin spun around. Her father claimed Sigrid for the third dance, while Fili stood up with his mother, and then, just as he thought his opportunity to take her in his arms had come, he was called upon to join the musicians.

Kili joined him with his own fiddle as Fili was tuning up. He glanced around briefly to check that everyone was ready, then nodded a fast beat to the band and they began another sharp, driving dance tune, the brothers wielding their fiddle bows with as much dexterity as they did their weapons. Fili looked around for Sigrid as he played, and saw her standing on the edge of the dance floor, watching him with a rapt expression of delight on her face, clapping along with the rhythm. He grinned across the dancers at her, buoyed by her admiration and approval, but his smile lessened a degree when he saw a dwarf he didn't know approach her and try to engage her in conversation. He was relieved to see Bofur claim her hand and start trying to teach her his own eccentric version of a jig, and when he looked again for the unknown dwarf, he had disappeared into the crowd.

Fili played two more dances with the band, his eyes on Sigrid as she danced first with Balin and then with Oin. As the second tune finished and the audience clapped, Fili dropped his fiddle back into its case and clapped Kili on the shoulder. "That's it for me, Kili. You keep going. I'm going to dance with my lady." Kili grinned at him, and turned to nod the band straight in to the next tune. Fili threaded his way through the dancers to Sigrid, and slipped his arm around her.

"My turn," he murmured, and led her to the floor. She put her arms around his neck as he encircled her waist, and they swayed together slowly, despite the lively beat that Kili had set and the energetic dancers whirling all around them.

"That was wonderful," she said. "I loved it. You're very good." Then her smile broadened into a grin. "Is there anything you can't do?"

He looked at her in silence for a moment, feeling uncharacteristically bashful at her generous praise, but he glossed over his emotional reaction with an impish grin. "Thank you, love. I might not have begrudged all those hours of practise Mother forced on me, if I'd known how handy it would be later on for wooing a certain bargeman's daughter."

She laughed and leaned in for a kiss. "Well, it's more effective for wooing purposes than Bofur's dancing, that's for sure. Consider me wooed." She stopped, and her brow contracted in a slight frown. "Speaking of Bofur… Fili, did you see that dwarf who was talking to me before? He said he had something important to say to me, but he ran off as soon as Bofur came over. It was very odd."

Fili's eyes narrowed as he bristled at the thought of the unknown dwarf hassling Sigrid. "I did see that. I don't know who it was, he's not from the Mountain. Are you all right?"

Sigrid nodded, surprised at the question. "I'm fine. It was just strange, that's all."

A drunken lecher? A robber trying to steal his mother's jewellery? Not knowing anything for certain, Fili decided to downplay the incident. "It was probably one of Dain's people with too many ales under his belt, thinking he'd try it on with the most beautiful woman in the room," he said, smiling. He drew her closer, determining to follow it up later and find out who it was, but wanting to put it out of his mind for the moment. As he turned them gently in their slow swaying movements, he gradually came around to face the musicians, and he glanced up at them. He rolled his eyes when he saw what was happening amongst them. "Oh no. Look, Thorin's getting his harp out. Trust me, that's our cue to get out of here."

They made their way back to the honour table. Fili grabbed his coat from his chair and threw it around Sigrid's shoulders, then picked up two goblets from the table and stuffed them into pockets in the coat. He took a flagon of wine in one hand, and Sigrid's hand in the other, and together they wound their way through the masses of people, out of the hall.

* * *

Sigrid was becoming more familiar with the corridors and stairs of the Mountain, and recognised the way up to the top of the great gate long before they stepped out into the night. The wind was stronger this evening, colder. The gown she was wearing was beautiful, but it was thin, and she burrowed gratefully into Fili's coat. It smelled like him, spicy and male, and she brought the lining close to her face to surround herself with his scent, and breathed it in. She watched him from deep inside his coat as he placed the flagon on the parapet, but when he turned to her to retrieve the goblets he'd placed in the coat pockets, he noticed what she was doing and stopped.

"Are you all right, love? It's not too cold up here?"

She dropped the fabric from her face with a start, half guilt and half mischief.

"No, it's fine. It's… your coat. I…" She hesitated, reluctant to own up. "I like the way it smells."

He raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Really? What does it smell like?"

She squirmed, smiling, caught by his direct question. "It smells like… you."

He gave a soft affectionate laugh and cupped her face with his hand. "Well, feel free to borrow it any time, love. But you have me right here, you know." He pulled the goblets out of the pockets and poured them both a drink, then swung up onto the parapet and held his hand out to her just as he had three nights ago, his smile all blue eyes and dimples. She didn't hesitate this time, taking his hand with an answering grin of her own and climbing up beside him, her trust in him outweighing her fear, but as she settled herself on the edge, she still kept her eyes on the horizon rather than the dizzying view straight down. He put his arm around her and drew her close, then turned and reached for the goblets, handing one to her.

They sat together in silence, looking at the stars, the quiet splashing of the falls below the only sound being carried to them on the breeze. An owl hooted in the distance.

"Did you hear that?" Fili murmured. "Brown owl."

Sigrid took a sip of wine. "There are hardly any lights in Dale tonight."

"Everyone's here for the feast."

Sigrid stared out at the few scattered lights marking Dale in the darkness, and sighed. "I need to go back there soon." She leaned her head against Fili's. "I don't want to leave you."

He turned and kissed her hair, and whispered, "So don't leave. Stay here with me."

"I do so much in Dale, Fili. I can't just walk away from it, as much as I want to. I need to find people to take over my tasks."

It was Fili's turn to sigh. "I know you do, love. I'm being selfish. How much time will it take?"

"I don't know. A week, maybe?"

"And then what? Will you come back to me? Mother's keen to have you stay here. She wants to start showing you the ways of the Mountain and our people right away."

Sigrid arched an eyebrow and smiled. "Oh, well, if your _mother's_ keen…"

Fili laughed and gave her a squeeze. "I am too, more than I can say. But it's up to you, beloved. If you would like to call my chamber your home, it's yours. If you'd rather stay in Dale, then it just means my pony will be getting more exercise than she's been used to." He took a sip of wine. "It's not something you have to worry about right now, though. For now, let's just relax and enjoy the moment."

She smiled, and gave him a little nudge with her elbow. "Don't you ever worry about anything?"

He sipped his wine and thought for a moment, taking her question seriously. "I worry about the people I love, like Kili, and Thorin, and you, if they are in pain, or in danger. Other than that, I don't see the point, especially if it's something outside my control."

She sighed again. "I envy you that. I seem to be always worried about something or other."

Fili reached for her goblet and placed it on the stone beside him, then set his own down next to it, and turned towards her. "Then let me help you take your mind off it," he said softly. He slowly tilted her face to him, and kissed her tenderly. "I wanted so much to do that when we were here the other night," he whispered.

"Mmm, I wish you had," she replied. He turned more fully towards her, and kissed her again more deeply, and she slid her hand into his hair and kissed him back, savouring the taste and warmth of his lips.

She closed her eyes as he started pressing butterfly kisses down her neck, the sensation enhanced by the soft brushing of his braids against her skin. "You stop worrying when I hold you in my arms. I can see it on your face. I can feel it," he murmured against her throat. He kissed his way back up and claimed her lips again for another slow, lingering kiss. Sigrid sensed his surprise when she broke the kiss and pulled back.

"Fili."

"What is it, love?"

She looked into his eyes, her hand caressing his cheek. "Let's go home."


	2. Chapter 2

They walked hand-in-hand through the deserted corridors of the Mountain back to his chamber. As he had done earlier that afternoon, he led her inside, then leaned back on the door to shut it and drew her into his arms. "Welcome home," he murmured as he removed his coat from around her and resumed kissing her neck. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch for a moment, then drew back, taking hold of both his hands and pulling him towards the bed. Her legs hit the bed and she collapsed backwards onto it. He fell on top of her, bracing himself with his arms so as not to crush her with his full weight.

"Here is better," she whispered, and drew his head down for a kiss. Fili moved his body onto the bed beside her, and lifted a hand to run his fingers into her hair, when she stopped short with a flinch.

"Ow," she moaned, sitting up and grinning ruefully. "I'm sorry Fili, I've got to take these things out of my hair." She started feeling around her head to unpin the dozens of tiny jewelled stars that were decorating the elaborate braiding.

"Here, love, let me," Fili said, sitting up behind her. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." His deft fingers made short work of the task, carefully gathering the tiny pins in his palm and reaching across to place them on the low table beside his bed. He then unhooked the pendant from around Sigrid's neck, and unwound the jewelled cinch from her waist, adding them to the pile on the table. "There, all gems accounted for. Now you're my own sweet Sigrid again."

She turned and smiled at him. "Didn't you like them?"

"They're beautiful, and I can't even express how beautiful you looked in them tonight, but I'm sorry." He shrugged, grinning. "If they are going to get in the way of me ravishing you, then they have to go."

Sigrid laughed, then angled him a teasing look from under her lashes. "You ravishing me? How do you know I'm not going to ravish you?"

Fili pulled her close. "Mmm," he murmured against her neck. "Fine with me. Let the ravishing begin." He kissed his way up to her jawline, and threaded his fingers into her hair to loosen her braiding, now thankfully free of ornaments and feeling soft and silky in his fingers. Sigrid's eyes were closed, but her hands found their way to his waist to pull at his shirt where it was tucked into his breeches, and she drew back to lift it up over his head and fling it carelessly behind her onto the floor.

"That's my best shirt," he mouthed teasingly against her collarbone.

"It's a fine shirt, and I can't tell you how handsome you looked in it tonight, but if it's in the way of me ravishing you, it has to go," she breathed.

"You know I agree," he laughed, and started to pull at the waist of her gown. "How do I get this off then?"

She turned in his arms to show him the back of the gown. "Laces."

"Ah, laces," he said, reaching down for his boot knife. He slit the laces with one swift stroke, then flung the knife at his weapons rack across the room, where it lodged in the wooden frame with a satisfying thud.

"I sense a pattern emerging," said Sigrid, amused, as she started to shimmy out of her gown. "Perhaps I should go ahead and stock up on replacement laces?"

Fili lifted an eyebrow. "Yes. Yes, you should," he said evenly. He pulled off his boots and threw them on the floor, and reached for Sigrid again as she sent her gown flying to join his shirt. He froze when he saw that she was already naked.

He swallowed. "Sigrid," he began. "Were you not wearing anything underneath that gown tonight?"

She said nothing, but held his gaze as she slowly straddled his hips and pushed him back onto the bed, clasping his hands and drawing them up to rest on the pillow above his head. She leaned down to bring her lips close to his ear, and whispered, "Mm-hm. Next time I'll tell you beforehand so you can think about it all evening."

He groaned. "You want to kill me, don't you?" He let her continue to keep his hands captive, though they both knew full well he could move any time he wanted, and tried to crane his neck up to kiss her. Each time she pulled back to stay just out of reach of his searching mouth.

"Well, you will keep making these rash promises, Fili my love," she purred. "Do you remember what you said? 'Next time, your way'. So now you need to hold still – we're doing this my way."

Sigrid slid her hands down Fili's arms to the hard muscles of his chest, and he fought back the urge to reach for her as she lowered her head and began kissing and nipping at him. She explored his body with her mouth and hands, teasing and tasting her way down, and Fili found himself breathing heavily by the time she reached the drawstring of his breeches, where she stopped and lifted her head to look into his eyes. Without breaking her gaze, she undid the drawstring and reached inside to take him into her hands. At the mercy of her fingers, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the pillow for a moment, then looked down again as she let go of him to peel off his breeches. She tossed them aside, and slid her hands up his thighs to grasp him again, before taking him gently in her mouth.

Fili laid a forearm across his eyes and tried to remember to breathe. The feel of Sigrid's mouth, her tongue sliding and swirling on him, tasting him, and the insistent caresses of her hands, threatened to overwhelm him sooner than he wanted, and he reached down to place a palm on her cheek.

"Sigrid, please, come up here."

She gave a low laugh and released him, and started kissing her way back up his body, once again straddling his hips, and this time grinding slowly and rhythmically against him. He groaned and shifted himself up onto his elbows. "Amrâlimê, I want to touch you," he whispered. He sat up and gathered her body close to him with one arm, and used the other to help shift them backwards until his back rested against the headboard of the bed. He reached down between them to touch her, and as his fingers found their way into her soft, slick folds, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back.

"Ah, yes, Fili, my love," she whispered. She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze, and grasped the headboard either side of his head, and began slowly rocking her body against his hand. He slid a finger inside her, watching her face, revelling in the look of sensuous abandon in her half-closed eyes. She continued her gentle movement as he stroked inside her with his finger, then she lifted herself off him, and grasped his shaft. He rested his hands lightly on her hips as she positioned herself where she wanted to be, then she resumed her slow movements, her every pulse taking him further inside her until he filled her completely. Using the headboard as leverage, she dictated a rhythm of long, slow, rolling strokes, and he groaned again, once more suppressing the urge to take control, and slid his hands along her waist to caress her breasts.

Sigrid slowed her movement and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Fili."

He turned his head to press his lips along her jawline. "Yes, love. Tell me what you want."

"I want you to roll us over."

He held her body close so as not to break their contact, and lifted them down the bed. Sigrid moved first one leg, then the other from her kneeling position to wrap them around his waist. He held her firmly against him, and then rolled himself over to lay her gently onto her back, her legs still around his waist, and began moving slowly inside her. She was so warm, and soft, and wet, and she was holding on to him so tightly, urging him on with her soft whispers and kisses, that he desperately wanted to finish right then and there, but first he wanted to bring her to her pleasure. Without slowing his movements, he whispered in her ear.

"Tell me what you want, love."

Her eyes were closed, her head arched back, but as he spoke to her, her eyes softly opened and she gazed at him. "I want you," she breathed. "Just you. Just like this. Don't stop."

Her words, the sound of her voice, the look on her face, were his undoing. He groaned once more, and started to increase the tempo of his movements, building up until he was driving into her faster and faster. He heard her cry out as she reached her peak and felt her muscles clench around him, and he was lost, surging into her in wave after wave of release.

Breathless and spent, he gathered her close, and there was nothing else in the world but what was within the circle of his arms.

* * *

Sigrid awoke early the next morning, still tucked in to Fili's shoulder. She knew he was awake when the bicep of the arm around her flexed as he reached up and started to stroke her hair.

"Good morning," she whispered.

His sleepy, satisfied purr made his chest vibrate beneath her hand. "Mmmm. Good morning, beloved."

They lay silent for a few minutes longer, basking in each others' warmth, Fili's fingers caressing her hair while she toyed with the hair on his chest.

"You're always doing that," she murmured at last. "I love it."

"Doing what?" he asked absently.

"Touching my hair."

"No I don't. Do I?"

Sigrid couldn't help but laugh. It was the first time she had ever heard Fili sound genuinely baffled. "You do, all the time. I know it gets untidy, especially these wispy bits in the front…"

He yawned and stretched out his body languidly beside her, and was silent a moment as he gathered his sleepy thoughts. "Mmmm, I do, don't I? I hadn't realised. I don't care if it's untidy, beloved. It's not that. It's… gold." He twirled a strand around his finger. "It's dark gold, the colour of age-old jewellery before you clean the tarnish off it. It's beautiful." He pulled her towards him and kissed her head. "And you know the effect gold has on dwarves. Seems I'm not immune." Then he stretched again, his muscles flexing and joints popping, and grinned and laughed to himself, "I must remember not to be so critical of Thorin next time."

"Well, I'm glad you like it. Though I have to say," she added teasingly, "I've never had my hair described as a rusty old piece of metal before."

"Not rust, love, tarnish." Fili returned her teasing tone with a smile. "I see you've got a lot to learn about smithing."

"Let me guess, you're just the dwarf to teach me." Fili nodded and tilted her face towards him for a kiss. "But first things first." She lowered her voice, feeling awkward. "The necessary? Is it down the hall? I've only got my gown…"

"It's all right, love, I have a bathing room. Through there." He pointed to a curtain in the corner of the room. "I'll run down and get your things." He removed his arm carefully from beneath Sigrid's shoulders, threw back the covers, and bounced his way to the end of the bed, the recoils sending Sigrid flying, shrieking with laughter. He got up and pulled on his breeches, and turned to tuck Sigrid back into bed with an enthusiastic kiss. "Are you hungry? I'm starving. I'll bring back food too."

Sigrid laughed, shaking her head at him fondly. "You're a morning person, aren't you?"

Fili stopped. "No," he said softly. "Just very, very happy." She melted at his heartfelt words, and gazed at him, her eyes expressing the feelings she couldn't find immediate words for. "There's that look again," he said. "You're making it hard for me to leave." He made his way to the door, and turned back to her from the open doorway.

"Amrâlimê, don't ever stop looking at me like that."


	3. Chapter 3

Sigrid slid out of bed, found where she had thrown Fili's shirt the night before, and put it on. It was much too big, the wide shoulder yoke extending halfway to her elbows and causing her hands to disappear in the sleeves, but she rolled the sleeves up, the intimacy of wearing his shirt a pleasure for which she was willing to tolerate a little inconvenience. She drew back the curtain of the bathing room and peered inside. The room was large, with a washstand facing her as she entered, a large empty bathing pool against one wall, and she was relieved to find the toilet behind a partition alongside the other wall. She used it, washed her hands in the basin at the washstand, which was well stocked with fluffy towels, soaps and other bathing needs, and went to investigate the pool. Like the rest of the room, it was chiseled smoothly out of the stone of the Mountain, rectangular in shape, with a wide ledge running around the rim, and small steps leading in and out of it. The bottom of the pool was a good six inches below the level of the floor, and she estimated that when filled with water, it would come up to her waist. She had certainly never seen anything in Dale to compare with such luxury, and she shook her head to think of the work it would take to heat enough water to fill it. She returned to the main chamber, being able for the first time to have a proper look around, not presently being distracted by Fili's kisses. There was a fireplace in one wall, though it wasn't lit at the moment, and next to it stood Fili's weapons rack, two large angled swords and various smaller blades ranged on it, with his boot knife still sticking out of the timber frame. Sigrid grinned to see her blue gown hanging lopsidedly from the edge of it, and she pulled it down and folded it, placing it on the end of the bed. There were a couple of chests in the corner, near a table and two chairs, and then there was the large bed, with a small table on either side. It was very like the guest room Balin had provided her, but on a grander scale. Two things struck her about the room: it was light, though they were deep inside the Mountain, and no lanterns were lit; and it was warm, though the fire was out. She looked up to see where the light was coming from, and realised there was a large opening in the roof of the chamber, a shaft through which light was reflected into the room; but the mystery of why she was not feeling cold she could not fathom, and would have to wait for Fili's return.

He returned presently with the small trunk containing Sigrid's things under his arm, balancing a tray of food in his hands. He handed the tray to Sigrid, sitting up on the bed. "Leftovers. We don't expect the kitchen staff to be in any fit state the morning after New Year's," he said. He placed her trunk against the wall, and climbed onto the bed next to her, pulling her close and helping himself to some small cold pies.

"That shirt suits you," he said teasingly between mouthfuls. "I needn't have brought your things up after all. Did you find the bathroom?"

"Yes. The bathing pool is enormous. How on earth do you fill it?"

He smiled his sunny, dimply smile. "I'll show you after we've eaten." He swallowed a few more bites of food, and his voice turned tentative, his brows pulling together. "How do you like the room? If you don't like it, I can find something else…"

Sigrid leaned in and kissed him. "I love it, it's perfect. I was wondering though, I noticed the fire isn't lit, but it's not cold in here? In the guest room it got quite cool once the fire went out."

Fili raised his eyebrows at her. "Mountain secret, my love. Although you're now privy to all our secrets, so I will tell you, but in a minute. Have you finished? Come, I'll show you how the bathing pool works."

Fili led Sigrid into the bathing room and pointed out a rectangular metal plate set into the wall at one end of the pool. "See this? It's a sluice. Here, feel it." He placed Sigrid's hand on the plate.

She looked at him in surprise. "It's warm."

He grinned at her, and took hold of a handle at the top of the plate, forcing it up along grooves set in the wall on either side of it. As the plate moved up, a great stream of water began flowing out of the wall into the pool. Sigrid held her hand under the torrent, bracing herself against the strength of it.

"Warm water." She looked at Fili. "How?"

"It's pumped in a continuous loop from the furnaces. You open the sluice when you want to fill the bath, and there's a plug you pull out in the bottom to let the water out when you're finished. It's also the secret to keeping the room warm, the warm water flowing past the walls. The heat radiates into the room."

Sigrid shook her head in amazement. "They talk about dwarven ingenuity. I had no idea it was this sophisticated."

Fili laughed. "It's just the plumbing, love. Simple. Wait until you see what we do in the forges." He looked at the water rapidly filling the pool, and back at Sigrid. "No use wasting it," he said, grinning, and he peeled off his breeches and climbed in. The churning water was already up to his knees, and he sat down and relaxed back into it, his hands waving in the water by his sides. "It will take another minute to fill. There's soap on the washstand, love, could you please reach it for me?"

Sigrid turned and found the jar of soft soap on the washstand. When she turned back, she couldn't immediately see where Fili had got to, and then she realised he had ducked under the flow from the sluice gate. The pressure must have been enormous; it had been as much as she could do to hold her hand under it. He moved out from under the flow, water streaming from his body, and reached up with both hands to wipe his face and push his hair back, and Sigrid's breath caught in her throat. She had felt she was well acquainted with his body by now, but this vision of him, with water running in rivulets down the flexing muscles of his torso and arms, sent a startling ache of desire flooding through her. She felt for the rim of the pool and sat down, clutching the soap in her hands. Fili, oblivious to her reaction, turned and grabbed the handle of the sluice with both hands, and forced it down to cut off the flow of water, only now Sigrid's eyes were on the muscles of his back and shoulders as they moved beneath his skin. She drew in a deep breath, and when he turned and saw her sitting on the edge of the pool, she cleared her throat and held up the jar of soap.

"Here you go."

He waded towards her, his gaze fixed on her eyes, and she knew that he could see right through her façade of nonchalance. He said nothing, but reached over to pick up her legs and swing them around so her feet were dangling in the water, and she drew in another faltering breath as he gently drew her knees apart and moved in to stand between them, sliding his hands along the outside of her thighs. The depth of the sunken floor of the pool meant she was looking slightly down at him, his face on a level with her breasts. He looked up at her eyes, and she didn't hide the desire burning within them. His own held a mischievous, calculating, predatory look.

"Don't move," she whispered, before he could put into action any of the thoughts she could tell were running through his mind. She put down the jar of soap, reached for a braid of his hair and started to gently unweave it, the wet strands sticking to her fingers. She loosened another, and another, until they were all undone. Fili stood frozen, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Turn around." He turned his back towards her and leaned back between her legs, lifting his arms over her thighs to rest his elbows on the rim of the pool. Sigrid scooped a dab of soft soap from the jar, leaned over Fili's arm to reach down and wet it in the water, rubbed it into a lather between her hands, and started washing his hair. The soap had been boiled with rosemary and chips of cedar wood, the clean masculine scent wafting up around her as she massaged his scalp.

"There, you're done. Go rinse that off," she said, and he lifted his arms and ducked straight under the water.

He resurfaced and pushed his hair back with his hands as he had done earlier, squeezing out the excess water, and locked his eyes on her with the same predatory look as before, intent and hungry.

"I'm far from done, Sigrid," he said. Sigrid took another deep breath, trying to control the feelings he aroused in her. She wanted to finish what she had started before he succeeded in diverting her attention completely. She got up and went back to the washstand, and found what she was looking for, a bottle of cider vinegar, then sat back down on the ledge and beckoned him over.

"Last bit." He moved back to his position between her knees, and she gathered his hair up and poured a palmful of the cider vinegar over it, scooping up some water to dilute it as it ran through his hair. When he realised what it was, he turned to her and grimaced.

"Apples. I hate apples," he muttered. His grumble sounded so incongruous in the intensely-charged atmosphere that Sigrid burst out laughing.

"Stop complaining. It will wash out," she said, flicking some water at him.

He raised his eyebrows at her, a smile twitching at the sides of his mouth. "Is that so? You'll have to show me." He slowly reached up to slide his hands along her thighs. Sigrid waited, eyes alight and wary, knowing that something was coming, and she saw his grin and squealed a split second before he pulled her into the water with a splash.

She surfaced, laughing and spluttering. He pulled her close.

"Your best shirt," she teased. "I hope it's not ruined." He surveyed the front of her body where the fabric clung to her, sodden and practically transparent.

"Never looked better," he said, claiming her mouth hungrily, and the fire that had been smouldering between them blazed up, and not all the water around them could quench it.

* * *

"Are we not expected to make an appearance downstairs at all today?" Fili was sitting up in the bed with his arms around Sigrid, who was between his legs, leaning back on his chest. She could feel his voice vibrate in his body behind her as he answered her.

"The day after New Year's? It's a holiday. In any case, there are usually too many sore heads to get any work done. No-one expects much." His voice became quiet. "Will you go home today?"

Sigrid sat up and turned towards him. "Yes. I need to, Fili. And it's not just because I have to find people to take over my work. I've felt so different since we came back from Laketown, better, but I have to know if it's me, or if it's you." She saw his brows contract in concern, and tried to clarify herself. "I want to know that it's for the right reasons, that I'm not using you as a crutch, or I'll end up afraid to leave you."

Fili drew in a large breath, and let it out slowly. "You're right, love." He reached out a hand and cupped her face. "Balin told me I can't fight this battle for you. I understand that better now. You need to see it through."

"Balin is a wise dwarf." They both smiled, reminded of Fili's words to her the night they had supper together. A tear started to fall down Sigrid's cheek, and she laughed in surprise at herself as Fili wiped it away with his thumb. "It's only for a week. I'm coming straight back."

Fili settled her back against his chest with a squeeze. "You'd better be. I don't want to have to come down to Dale with a squad for a forcible abduction."

Sigrid shrugged, grinning. "I don't know, that sounds pretty exciting. Would you throw me over your shoulder?"

"Mmm, don't tempt me." He kissed the top of her head. "Can I at least walk you home?"

"Of course. And stay to supper."


	4. Chapter 4

It was mid-afternoon when Fili, Sigrid and Tilda made their way through the great gate and down the large, flat flights of stone steps beside the waterfalls of the River Running to walk back to Dale. It would take them over an hour at the leisurely pace they had chosen, as it was a pleasure to linger in the clear, crisp afternoon air, and as Fili was keen to prolong his remaining hours in Sigrid's company as far as possible. Dozens of townsfolk were already making their way down the road ahead of them, ambling along in quiet pairs or chattering groups, and they were overtaken from time to time by the occasional traveller on horseback. Bard and Bain were among those who had ridden in, and would return the same way in less than half the time of the walkers, bringing Sigrid's and Tilda's things with them. Fili and Sigrid, hand in hand, were listening to Tilda happily recounting her favourite moments of the holiday.

"The mines were amazing, and the workshops. But the feast! That was the best. I danced every dance. You're a good dancer, Fili, and you play really well too. Thorin was funny, wasn't he? I thought for sure his hair would whack you in the face, Sigrid." She sighed. "I can't wait for another feast. Do we really have to wait a whole year for another one?"

Fili grinned at her. "There'll be a wedding feast before then, Tilda."

Tilda's eyes lit up. "Of course! When are you going to be wed? You'll let me be your attendant, won't you, Sigrid? I'd be the first girl my age in town to do it. Oh, do, do make it soon."

"It can't be any time soon, Tilda," said Sigrid, her eyes sorry as she poured cold water on Tilda's enthusiasm. "It's the start of winter, and we've already given as much food as we can spare for this feast. You know there'll be nothing to replace what we have until the spring planting is harvested. I'm not going to have the town risk running out of food just for me."

Fili lifted Sigrid's hand and kissed it. "You're right, love, as usual," he said. "You know I'd wed you tomorrow if I could." He turned to Tilda. "If we were just Sigrid and Fili, we could handfast ourselves and that would be that. But your sister is Lady of Dale, and I'm heir to the Mountain, so there have to be agreements on bride price, dowry, and morning gift, and child endowment agreements, divorce agreements… that all takes time." He grinned wryly. "And my mother would never forgive me if we didn't have a proper wedding feast. We have to wait until the summer."

"I never thought of all that," said Tilda, looking downcast. "Divorce agreements, really? It's such a shame you can't just handfast now and worry about all that other stuff later."

Sigrid shook her head fondly at her sister. "You just want to be attendant, you scamp. You'll just have to wait." Then she looked around, realising that Fili had stopped. "Fili? What is it?"

Fili sprang at Tilda and scooped her up in his arms. "Little sister, you are a genius!"

"I am?" said Tilda, laughing as Fili swung her around. "How so?"

He set Tilda down and reached for Sigrid. "Tilda's right, love. The feast can wait. But we don't have to." He drew her close, regardless of Tilda, regardless of the curious eyes of a group of villagers who had to skirt around them where they were stopped on the road, regardless of time or place or anything but the woman he held in his arms. "If I came back at the end of the week with a wedding ring, beloved, would you give me your hand?"

"Oh, Fili," Sigrid said, and she took his face in her hands and kissed him.

"Well?" interrupted Tilda impatiently.

They laughed as they broke their kiss, Tilda's interjection reminding them they were on the main road in broad daylight, in full view of half the villagers of Dale. Fili reached out to ruffle Tilda's hair.

"Take that for a 'yes', Tilda."

* * *

As they wound their way through the streets of Dale, Sigrid stopped outside a small, cheerful-looking cottage, half hidden by wooden racks of herbs drying in the late afternoon sun. "This is Healer Jerrik's house, Fili. Tilda, you can head on home if you like. I want to speak with the healer for a moment." Tilda nodded and sped off home, eager to find her father and fill him in on the latest tidings. Sigrid watched, smiling at her enthusiasm, until she disappeared around the corner, then turned and knocked on the healer's door.

Healer Jerrik answered the door, a young, wiry man with a mass of untidy brown hair and a kind, absent-minded face. "Lady Sigrid, hello. How do you fare?"

Sigrid hesitated. "Jerrik, I'm sorry to disturb you so soon after New Year, but I was just passing… would you have a moment to speak to us?"

Jerrik realised with a start that Fili was standing behind Sigrid. "Oh yes, my lord, please, do come in." He led them inside, relocated some dusty parchments from two seats, drawn up at a table that could barely be seen, covered as it was with more parchment, boxes of herbs, bottles of ointment and jars of salve, as well as various instruments that Fili couldn't recognise. He motioned for them to sit down, smiling sheepishly. "Was it New Year's? I thought it was rather quiet yesterday."

Sigrid smiled affectionately at him. "Next time I'll come and remind you. I wanted to thank you, Jerrik, for the advice you gave to the Lady Tauriel about my situation."

Jerrik's eyes brightened. "Oh, yes. I've had more than a few people coming with similar symptoms, trouble sleeping, nightmares, disturbing thoughts. I do wish you'd come to see me sooner. There are a few treatments that I've found that have made significant improvements for… I have notes… let me see…" Fili and Sigrid watched as he shuffled through the stack of parchments on the table and pulled out the one he was looking for. "Here. Proper nutrition, relaxation, support, and talking it over with a wise counsellor, have all helped to reduce the incidence of attacks. Sudden shocks, or stress, have been known to worsen the symptoms." He pointed to his notes, becoming engrossed in the details of his studies. "At least fifteen people, various ages, male, female, there appears to be no pattern here that I can ascertain to increase susceptibility, no greater likelihood of…"

"Master Jerrik," said Fili, bringing the healer's attention abruptly back to his visitors. "I'm sure your research is very thorough, thank you." Sigrid laid a hand softly on Fili's arm, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.

"Yes, thank you Jerrik, I've found the treatments you describe have been helpful," she said. "I also found that gradually building up to facing the situation, instead of avoiding it, has helped me, although I'm yet to see if the improvements are going to last. Is there anything else I should be doing, in your opinion?"

Jerrik leaned forward and nodded. "Very interesting. Yes, I must make a note of that. Gradual exposure. Fascinating. As for other treatments, herbs that promote relaxation are always beneficial… " He stood up and rifled through the mess on the table, extracting a couple of wooden containers. "This one's…" He checked one label. "Chamomile, although it's not to be taken if you're with child. You're not with child?" he asked innocently.

Fili felt Sigrid freeze beside him. He reached out to clasp her hand. "Master Jerrik," he began, his voice low and patient. "We know we can rely on your discretion. We don't think it's likely, although it would be too early to tell."

"Best to err on the safe side then," Jerrik said abstractedly, his attention on the box in his other hand. "Yes, this one, golden root. Fortifies the nerves. A herbal tea, start with one a day, and see how you go." Jerrik held out the box to Sigrid. She took it, opened her mouth to speak, and closed it again. Fili squeezed her hand and she took a deep breath.

"Jerrik," she said. "Fili and I… is it even possible?"

It took Jerrik a moment for the penny to drop. "Fili and you?" he said, looking back and forth from one of them to the other. Comprehension gradually dawned on his face. "Oh, I see, my lord… my lady… well, anything's possible, interracial reproductive capability has been shown to be remarkably… I have a very interesting treatise… here, somewhere…" He started shuffling parchments again. Sigrid interrupted him.

"Perhaps I could read the treatise another time, Jerrik," she said kindly. "Is there any lore? Are there any precedents?"

"None I know of. And the lore mostly recounts an elf being involved, rather than…" He waved his hand in the air vaguely. "I'll endeavour to find out more, but I would recommend speaking with a midwife, from both our people and yours, my lord. There may be more to be learned outside my areas of expertise."

Sigrid rose, and Fili followed her lead. He shook Jerrik's hand, suppressing his urge to grin at the healer's odd ways. "Thank you, Master Jerrik. We appreciate your time and your extensive knowledge."

"Not at all, my lord, not at all. Farewell Lady Sigrid, let me know how you go with the golden root."

Once outside, Fili took Sigrid in his arms. She bent her forehead to his and closed her eyes. "Sigrid, beloved," he murmured. "I won't have this be another source of worry for you. We'll find out all we need to, if we have to consult every midwife in the kingdom. Children or no, I'll be happy so long as you are beside me, and so long as you're safe."

Sigrid drew back and looked at him in concern. "I wasn't thinking. When we… it was irresponsible."

Fili brushed a strand of hair back from her face. "Is that what you're worried about? It might have been irresponsible, if you were only trifling with my affections," he grinned, and Sigrid smiled in spite of herself. "But you're not. And I'm not. We belong to each other, love, now and always, and if a child is going to come, let it come. It will be a blessing and a joy. And if not, then let's hope Kili and Tauriel can give us nieces and nephews, or the crown will go off to my second cousins."

Sigrid sighed, and shook her head at him, smiling. "I don't know how you do that."

"Do what?"

"Make everything make sense. Just when I'm the most worried, the most confused, you make it all fit." She leaned in and captured his lips in a soft kiss. "I wake up each day and think I couldn't love you more, and then… I do."

"Ah, Sigrid mine." Fili framed her face in his hands, and gazed into her eyes. "My beloved. Loving you is easy." He lowered his voice. "Do you know what's difficult? Getting a short answer out of your healer. Now let's go before he comes out with that treatise."


	5. Chapter 5

Fili and Sigrid walked slowly through the waning light of the evening, hand in hand, reluctant for their journey to end and so bring closer the time for them to part. When they finally arrived at her family's home and made their way into the kitchen, Sigrid was pleased to see that Tilda had already begun preparing their supper.

"Smells delicious, Tilda. Sausages?" Sigrid walked over to Tilda, busy at the stove, and peered into the frypan. She glanced at Fili, surveying them with his sunny blue eyes from where he was seated at the kitchen table, then turned back to Tilda with a grin. "Better put on a few more. Fili eats heaps." Sigrid put another pan on the stove, fetched some potatoes from the larder and started cleaning them. "Is Da home?"

Tilda nodded, pointing at the stairs with her tongs. "He arrived while you were at the healer's. He's gone to his room to wash for supper."

Bard came down the stairs moments later, and Fili rose from his seat to greet him. "Welcome, Fili, it's good to have you here. Tilda tells me you're bringing wedding rings back with you at the end of the week."

Clearly, for all that he had given Fili and Sigrid's betrothal his approval, Bard was not going to easily relinquish the idea that they were rushing into things. Fili grinned at the challenge. "No time like the present. It was Tilda who gave me the idea, in fact."

Bard looked around at Tilda, his brows stern. "Is that so?" Tilda, suddenly very busy at the stove, kept her back to her father, but shared a sidelong grin with her sister. Bard turned back to Fili. "Well, I hope you two know what you are doing."

Fili looked Bard in the eye, and his answer was categorical. "We do." He held Bard's eye for a moment longer, then continued, and his voice was softer, more deferential. "Have you and Mother had a chance to discuss the settlements?"

Bard laid a hand on Fili's shoulder and lifted the side of his mouth in a sardonic grin. "She mentioned something about it last night, but to be honest, once your mother and I got drinking with Thranduil, the evening became a bit of a blur. Come, sit down, let's eat."

"Is Bain not here?" asked Sigrid, bringing a pile of plates to the table.

"The butcher invited him to supper to thank him for his help," Bard replied. "I'm sure the fact that the butcher happens to have a very pretty daughter had nothing to do with him accepting."

They enjoyed a friendly supper, with no more mention of Bard's misgivings, although Sigrid knew that they were merely shelved for the time being, not forgotten. She steered the conversation to her plans for the next few days, and how she wanted to find people to help her with all the tasks she undertook around Dale. Although Tilda had commenced yawning halfway through the meal, her long days and late night catching up with her at last, as soon as Sigrid mentioned her plans, she sat up straight in her chair with a determined expression on her face.

"I can help you, Sigrid. I've watched you so many times, I know what to do. Let me come with you tomorrow and I'll show you."

She looked at Tilda in surprise. "I didn't want to put such a burden on your shoulders, Tilda. You're only eleven."

"I'm nearly twelve," Tilda bristled, indignant. "It would be my place to do it, wouldn't it, if you're gone away?" She appealed to her father. "Wouldn't it, Da?"

"Well, yes, I guess it would, Tilda," said Bard. "Until Bain were to marry."

"Or you yourself, Da," Sigrid added with a grin.

Bard snorted and shook his head at his daughter. "Not likely." His face became thoughtful. "Why not let her try, Sigrid?"

Sigrid smiled and shrugged. "It will be hard work, Tilda, are you sure?" Tilda nodded. "Gladly then. But early to bed tonight, it will be a long day tomorrow."

Tilda excused herself to go to bed as soon as she had finished her meal, and Sigrid was touched to see her include Fili in her goodnight hugs to herself and their father. Once Tilda had left, Bard and Fili both politely insisted on doing the dishes, neither one backing down until Sigrid intervened in amused exasperation.

"Fili has to get going soon, Da. If you're sure you don't mind cleaning up, I'd like to walk down to the Green and show him the view, before all the light is gone."

Bard nodded, and held his hand out to Fili. "See you again soon, Fili. Please tell your mother that I will come to see her during the week to commence negotiation of the settlements."

Fili was all courtesy as he shook Bard's hand. "Of course. I thank you for your hospitality tonight, Bard. Goodnight."

Sigrid ushered Fili out the door before he and her father could begin wrangling about anything else. They walked hand in hand to the end of the street, turned at the corner and walked down to the pleasant open space at the centre of town known as the Green. Variously used as a market, meeting place, and promenade, it was a large rectangle of grass, luxuriant in the springtime but now yellowing with the onset of winter, with a few shady evergreens and benches here and there. It was flanked on the east, west and south by shops and houses, with a tall bell tower at the south end, while the open north end provided a wide aspect back towards the Lonely Mountain. Sigrid and Fili ambled through to the end, and found a bench near a tree where they could sit in the last glimmer of the quickly fading light and take in the view. Fili put his arm around Sigrid and drew her close, and she leaned her head against his. He pointed out towards the Mountain, where they could just make out the shape of the great gate, with a light shining through the open postern next to it.

"Can you see our spot on the battlements atop the gate, beloved? Come here each evening at this time, just after sunset, and I'll be up there with a lantern. You'll see the light, and you'll know it's me, and you'll know that all my thoughts are bent on you, and you'll know that my heart will be yearning for you."

Sigrid turned to look into Fili's eyes. "I'll be here," she whispered. "Every night. And this is what I'll be thinking of." She slid her hand into his hair and tilted her face to his, and captured his lips in a slow, deep, lingering kiss.

"Ah, Sigrid mine, you're not making this any easier," Fili murmured when Sigrid released his mouth.

"It could have been worse." She grinned mischievously and brought her lips close to his ear. "I could have said I'll be thinking about what we did in the bathing room this morning."

Fili closed his eyes and groaned, and when he opened them, Sigrid could see the heat she had kindled in them. "Are you trying to goad me into that abduction? You're succeeding."

"Yes, I am." Fili's eyes lit up and he pulled her closer. "But not until the end of the week." Sigrid laughed as Fili sighed and rolled his eyes in a pretence of injured resignation. "Sooner if I can sort everything out."

He stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I'll be waiting." One of the bells from the belltower behind them chimed a single resonant note, the last bell of the day. It was not loud, but such was the stillness of the clear night that in half a minute they heard it again in miniature, echoing back to them from the Mountain. Fili stood up, his sigh this time genuine, and held out his hand. Sigrid rose and took it, and together they walked slowly back across the Green.

They stopped at the doorstep of her house, and Fili took Sigrid's face in his hands. "If you need me, send a rider and I'll be here in half an hour." Sigrid nodded, and with one last sweet kiss Fili released her and turned away. He took a step, then stopped short and turned back to her.

"I almost forgot." He shrugged off his coat, the one she had snuggled into on the parapet, and placed it around her shoulders. Sigrid laughed, though a tear had fallen down her cheek, and she reached out to place her palm on his cheek.

"You'll get cold."

He smiled softly at her, his eyes full of love. "I'll be warm again soon enough." He gently wiped away her tear with his thumb, then took hold of the hand she had pressed against his cheek, kissed her fingertips, and turned away. Sigrid watched as he walked to the end of the street, and as he approached the corner, she whispered "Turn this way, please Fili. Give me one last look before you go." At that moment, just before he disappeared around the corner, Fili turned and looked back towards her. He raised his hand in farewell, then placed it on his heart, and then continued around the corner and he was gone.

Sigrid went inside, shut the door, and leaned back on it. The house was quiet, the flickering light of the fire the only illumination in the room. Bard looked up from where he was sitting at the table, evidently waiting for her return. Sigrid took Fili's coat from around her shoulders, folded it, and brought it up to her face for a moment before placing it over the back of a chair.

"Sigrid, love. Come sit down for a minute." Bard gestured towards a chair that he had drawn up next to him. Sigrid sat down with a sigh.

"Da, I thought we had your blessing."

Bard reached out and took Sigrid's hand. "You do. I told you I would not stand in the way of your happiness, and I hold to that. I don't want to cause you pain, but you need to realise that the two of you will be faced with more than a few obstacles. I want you to think them through carefully before you commit yourself."

Sigrid sighed again. "What obstacles are you talking about, Da?"

Bard took a deep breath, and Sigrid could tell that her father had spent time preparing his speech. "Fili is a dwarf, Sigrid, with a dwarven lifespan. In forty or fifty years, you will be an old woman, and he will not have changed, save for the length of his beard. Will he still love you then, as you fade away before his eyes?"

Sigrid was taken aback at her father's words, and her eyes filled with tears. "I'd not thought about that, Da. I am certain Fili must have thought about it, though, because his brother is in exactly the same situation. I'll ask him about it, if it will ease your mind. But if it's naught to Fili, Da, then it's naught to me."

"And a family, Sigrid? Can you give up your chances of having children of your own?"

"We may not have to, Da. We spoke to Jerrik this afternoon, he seemed to think it possible."

"Possible? Is that enough for you, truly? Is it enough to build a life on?"

Sigrid breathed in deeply and searched her pockets in vain for a handkerchief. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, like a child, and looked earnestly at her father. "Da, when we spoke at the Mountain you told me how much I sounded like Mamma. You told me she chose you despite what her parents thought, and she stuck by her decision. You couldn't have known at that time whether you'd be able to have a family. No-one knows that. And you didn't know how little time you'd have together. You didn't know that she was going to be taken from you." She leaned closer and gripped her father's shoulder. "Tell me, Da, in truth – if you had known it, if you had known that Mamma was going to die, would you still have married her?"

Bard regarded his daughter, his face impassive, but his haunted eyes betrayed to Sigrid the depths of his emotions. "Aye," he said quietly at last. "You know I would have." His head dropped, and he brushed a hand over his eyes. Then he shook his head, and looked up. "And yet I would still want to spare you such grief, Sigrid. And Fili too, for that matter."

Sigrid framed his face in both her hands. "I know, Da. You want to protect me, and I love you for it. But in the end, if that's the price we have to pay to be together, then so be it."

He looked at her a long while, and finally nodded. "Aye," he murmured. "So be it." He put his arms around her and held her in a tight embrace. "You're so like your mother, child." He then released her and cleared his throat gruffly.

"Now, go on off to bed. You'll have your hands full with Tilda tomorrow. I want to sit here a while before I head upstairs. You go on."

Sigrid rose, pressing a hand to her father's shoulder. She gathered up Fili's coat, and reluctantly she moved away, leaving him at the kitchen table alone in the dying light of the fire, staring into the shadows, and not seeing them.


	6. Chapter 6

Fili woke and sleepily reached out beside him. The bed was empty. He looked across the space where Sigrid should be, and his eyes fell on the pile of jewels on the bedside table, his mother's betrothal jewellery and the betrothal pendant she had commissioned for him, still lying where he had placed them after he had removed them from Sigrid's hair and waist the night before last. He rolled across the bed to reach out and pick up the pendant, lifting it by the chain to let it dangle in front of him, and watched it slowly rotate. It was a substantial piece, there would be enough mithril in it for both his and Sigrid's rings, with some to spare. Enough for another ring, perhaps? He was determined that his wedding rings would be all his own work, but he knew he wasn't the best jewellery smith in the Mountain, much preferring blades to finery, and so he was going to need some advice.

After breakfast he made his way up to his mother's chambers, her jewels carefully wrapped in a cloth. He knocked on her door politely, and entered at her cheery invitation holding up the bundle. "Good morning, Mother. Returning your jewels." He planted a kiss on her cheek. "Thank you again for doing that, Sigrid looked beautiful."

Dis smiled, her blue eyes so like his own. "You're welcome, son. I'm glad to see you so happy, and Sigrid too." She opened the carved wooden jewellery box on her table and started packing away the stars, tiny glints of light reflecting from them onto her face and the nearby walls.

"Two things, Mother. First, Bard says he wants to come and see you this week about the settlements."

"I'm free the day after tomorrow. I'll send him a message." She looked up at Fili with a grin. "Unless you'd like to take it?"

Fili grinned back ruefully. "No, send a rider. Sigrid's busy organising things in Dale, and I've got some things I need to do here. Speaking of which…" He took the pendant from his pocket. "The second thing. Who smithed this for you, Mother?"

"Dori. He has the best eye for fine jewellery." A moment later, Dis caught the import of his question. "You're making the rings already?"

"Yes." Fili paused, knowing his next words were going to get a reaction, and enjoying baiting his mother just the tiniest bit. "By the end of the week."

Dis looked up in dismay from her jewellery box, as he knew she would, and exclaimed, "The end of the week? What? No feast? No celebration?"

Fili laughed and gave her a hug. "Yes feast, and yes celebration, in the summer. But we're handfasting at the end of the week, quietly, just with family. Sigrid's not fond of crowds."

Dis's shoulders relaxed and she laid a hand on her chest in relief. Then she swatted Fili's shoulder. "You did that on purpose."

He held up his hands in mock surrender, the pendant still dangling on its chain from one of them. "You should know I'd never dream of depriving you of a party, Mother." He gathered the pendant into his palm. "Can you give me any tips on smithing the rings? Mithril's so hard to come by, I've never used it."

"I had Dori make that from a couple of old brooches. It's already alloyed, of course, so all you need do is remove the gems, melt it down and cast it. Dori will know the finer points better than I."

"In that case, I'm off to the workshop, hopefully I'll find him down there."

* * *

Dori wasn't in the jewellery workshop, but in the kitchens, checking the leftover wine from the New Year feast to see if any of his favourite vintages were left. Fili arranged to meet with him the following day in the workshop, and then headed back down and seated himself at a work bench. The design he had in mind for Sigrid's ring was easy enough to create, in theory; he would carve an exact model of the ring he wanted out of hard wax, attach wax sprues that would form funnel shapes in the eventual mould for the molten metal to be poured in and for air to escape, and then envelop the wax model in casing slurry and set it to fire in the kiln overnight. As the casing fired, it hardened, and the wax inside burned away to leave a cavity the exact shape of the ring. Then tomorrow, with Dori's advice on the correct temperature and oxygen levels, he would melt down the pendant and cast the molten mithril in the mould. Although at the moment the gap between theory and practice felt substantial, it being decades since he had smithed jewellery, he had resolved that the ring be all his own work, so that each time Sigrid looked at it she would be reminded of the love and effort he had put into making it. That was the plan, anyway. He assembled a range of carving tools on the bench in front of him, cut off a piece of ring wax stock, and started carving.

* * *

Fili sat back from the workbench and stretched his neck and shoulders, his wide grin representative of how pleased he was. The wax model of the ring lay before him, and he knew it was finally perfect. The remains of three previous attempts were brushed into a pile on one side of the bench, cracked or broken pieces of wax that would be melted down and reused by another craftsman, the result of shaving a section too thinly or simply the slip of a miniature chisel, unfamiliar in his fingers. He had finished just in time – the sun would be low in the sky, and he had an appointment with the sunset. After supper he would return to prepare the model for that night's kiln firing, but for now he placed it in a box for safe keeping, grabbed the largest lantern he could find in a nearby store cupboard, and headed up to the parapet.

* * *

Alone on the bench at the north end of the Green, Sigrid pulled the collar of Fili's coat closer around her ears. The evening was chilly and overcast, the dull grey clouds in the west making it difficult to discern the exact moment that the sun dipped below the horizon. Sigrid's eyes were not turned that way, however; they were fixed on the great gate of the Lonely Mountain. There it was, a pinprick of light on the parapet, and she knew it was held in the hand of the one she loved. She wondered at it, such a little thing to hold so much significance for her. She kissed her fingertips and gently blew a warm breath across them, fancying that her kiss was speeding to where he was, hopefully to land upon his lips. She stayed another half an hour, until she saw the light disappear, and then with a sigh she slowly rose from the bench and made her way back home.

Bain, Tilda and Bard were sitting around the kitchen table. Tilda was reading aloud from her book of tales, a large, leather-bound book that had once belonged to their mother. Sigrid slipped quietly in beside them and listened as Tilda finished her tale, before closing the book and wrapping it carefully back in its protective cloth.

"You read that well, love," said Bard. "You don't want to continue?"

"I'm tired, and I'm going to bed," she announced. She hugged her father and brother goodnight, and turned to Sigrid. "Sigrid, will you come upstairs and tuck me in?"

Ignoring Bain's teasing at the request, as it had been years since Tilda had asked to be tucked into bed, Sigrid accompanied her sister up to her room, and helped her into her nightgown. She propped up some pillows against the headboard, and the two of them sat up companionably for a chat.

"Sigrid, do you really think I did a good job today?"

"Of course. You did very well, Tilda."

"I didn't know what to say to Hilda about her son."

Sigrid put her arm around Tilda and gave her a squeeze, remembering the child who had fallen from a tree and dislocated his collarbone. Jerrik had quickly reseated it, but the child's mother had been distraught. "Sometimes you don't need to say anything, love. Just sit and listen. It's easy when someone needs a shirt, or a blanket. You can give it to them. But if someone's hurt, or worried, and you can't fix it, it can still be a big help to them just to know that there's someone who cares enough to listen."

Tilda thought for a moment. "Like you have Fili?"

Sigrid was surprised at Tilda's perceptiveness. "I hadn't thought about it, but yes, I suppose so."

They sat in silence for a while, until Tilda spoke quietly. "I'm going to miss you when you go away."

"I won't be far, love. We'll see each other all the time."

"But you won't be _here_. Who am I going to talk to when I get worried about something?"

Tilda's words struck Sigrid's heart. It dawned on her that she was the closest thing to a mother that Tilda had ever known, and her leaving was going to cause Tilda more sorrow than that of losing a sister. She gathered her closer in her arms. "Any time you need me, love, just send me a message and I'll come. Or you can jump on your horse and ride straight up and find me."

Tilda sighed, unconvinced, and changed the subject. "What will we do tomorrow?"

"We'll check on Hilda and Alec again, and then we'll go see Britte the seamstress. There's a group that helps with the sewing for the children who lost their parents at Laketown, I want to ask Britte to take over the running of it. You can have some time off in the afternoon, if you want."

Tilda smiled a rueful smile. "I said I'd stick with it, and I will." She threw her arms around Sigrid's neck and hugged her tightly. "Goodnight, Sigrid."

Sigrid hugged her back. "Goodnight, Tilda." She watched Tilda snuggle down into her bed, blew out the candle, and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

* * *

The next evening found Sigrid again on the bench at the Green, wrapped in Fili's coat and awaiting the sunset. Britte had readily agreed to taking over the sewing group, and Tilda had shown herself more than capable of finding the right words while visiting Hilda the second time around. Tilda had even managed to make young Alec laugh, despite his discomfort, and the relief and gratitude on his mother's face had been beautiful to see. In fact, with the decrease in her workload and her confidence in her ability to manage her flashbacks growing daily, Sigrid was finding the work among the people of the town to be nothing but a joy. A new idea had begun to grow in her mind, one where perhaps she didn't need to give it up completely, and she longed to talk it over with Fili. She longed for him in general, but decided to wait and see out the week as she had planned, laughing at herself that it had only been two days and she was already eager to run back into his arms. She saw the light on the parapet appear in the twilight, and she smiled, and wondered if he felt the same.

* * *

Fili stared out at Dale, trying vainly to ascertain where Sigrid might be. He knew she would be on their bench on the Green, but it was impossible to place it among the twinkling town lights in the fading twilight. He missed her. He wanted to show her her ring, now cleaned and awaiting polishing and gemsetting, the cast having proceeded in textbook fashion thanks to Dori's advice. She would laugh and say there wasn't anything he couldn't do, and perhaps look at him with that same mixture of love and amazement that had so pleased and humbled him on New Year's. He wanted to hold her, and feel her sweet kisses on his lips. More than anything, he just wanted to be with her, to talk to her and laugh with her, but he understood her need to deal with her concerns on her own, and he hoped that she was finding the help she needed with her tasks. It seemed an eternity until the end of the week, and he wondered if she was finding it as long as he was.


	7. Chapter 7

Sigrid woke the next morning smiling, stretched her body sensuously in the bed, and reached out beside her. Fili wasn't there. She realised with a pang of regret that it had been a dream she had woken from, a very pleasant dream, so pleasant that she contemplated going back to sleep to try to recapture it. She smiled again as she thought of telling Fili about it instead. She got up reluctantly and looked out the window, and saw that the clouds that had been gathering for the last couple of days looked dark and ominous. It would surely rain this afternoon, which would put a damper on her plans with Tilda. She dressed and went downstairs, where she found her father already breakfasting.

"I'm heading up to see Dis to start talks about the settlements," he said between mouthfuls. "Have you any messages for Fili?"

"Well, I doubt you'd give him a kiss for me, Da, so just give him my love and tell him I'm fine. Tell him everything's going really well here, and I'll see him soon."

Bard nodded. "I will. The negotiations will go on for weeks, mostly by letter, but I have to make an appearance today to start things off. I'll be back by nightfall."

Sigrid frowned. "Have you seen the weather, Da? It will be raining by nightfall."

Bard glanced at the window. "I'll risk it. What will you and Tilda do today?"

"I was planning to ride out to one of the farmlets, but I think we'll stay home and study. I'm not as trusting of those clouds as you, Da."

* * *

That afternoon, Sigrid and Tilda were sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by books and parchments. Rain pelted against the windows, and Tilda had her head in her hands.

"I just don't see why it matters where anybody sits or who gets served first," she moaned fretfully. She shoved the book she was reading away from her. "It's ridiculous. How does this help anyone?"

"It's protocol, Tilda. You're the daughter of a lord now. We need to do these things properly, or it reflects poorly on Da."

Tilda drew the book back towards herself slowly, resentfully muttering words under her breath that Sigrid thankfully couldn't make out, and so didn't have to censure.

"I know it's difficult, Tilda. I had Balin helping me with it all last year." Sigrid looked at her sister, deliberating whether to mention her tentative new plan, and then made a decision. "What if I told you you didn't have to worry about it?"

"I'd say thank goodness." The book slammed shut. "Why, though? I thought you said it was important."

"It is important. But that doesn't mean you have to do it." Sigrid paused. "I could do it."

"But you won't be here. You'll be up at the Mountain."

"Well, it's not that far away, is it? There's no reason why I can't come down a few days a week and help you."

Tilda stared, open-mouthed. Sigrid smiled back at her. "What do you think? Would you like to share the job with me?"

Tilda stared at Sigrid a moment longer, her lip quivering, and then burst into tears.

Sigrid, surprised and concerned, reached across and drew her sister into a hug. "Oh, Tilda, I'm sorry. I thought you'd like the idea."

Tilda took in a few heaving breaths to try to still her sobs. "I do like it. I love it. You'll… you'll be here. You'll be here with me."

* * *

The ring sat on the bench of the jewellery workshop, polished to a mirror finish around the design in relief, and set with white gems from the pendant. It was the finest thing Fili had ever crafted, not exactly the standard of a master, but very creditable, and he felt justly satisfied with himself. His thoughts turned to his own ring. He had cast a mithril ingot for it during the pour, and he had a clear idea what he wanted to create. There was one thing he needed to be able to complete it, however, and it was in Dale, and he was going there tonight to get it.

* * *

Sigrid looked out of the doorway at the rain after supper, holding Fili's coat in her hand. It had not let up all afternoon, and looked set to continue into the evening. Her father had not returned from the Mountain, and she, Tilda and Bain had eaten without him. Sigrid presumed that he would have been pressed by Dis to be her guest overnight, to return home when the rain cleared, and she grinned as she failed to resist a mental "told-you-so" towards her Da. The sun was just setting, and she thought of Fili standing in the rain on the parapet, and wondered whether she would be able to see his lantern through the downpour. She'd given her word that she would be at the Green every night, and she was not going to break her promise, not for rain, hail or snow. Fili would find a way. She tented his coat over her head, and ran out into the rain towards the Green.

She stopped at the bench, already dripping wet, and looked out at the view. Her spirits fell. The rain was so heavy she couldn't see fifty yards in front of her, let alone all the way to the Mountain. Then through the rain, from behind her, she heard a voice call her name, and it was a voice she knew, a voice that had whispered to her in her dreams last night. Fili. He was there, taking shelter under the tree nearby, waiting for her. She ran straight into his arms, the force enough to knock him off balance and cause him to take a step backwards, and held him tight.

"You're here," she mumbled into his hair.

"I couldn't go another day without seeing you." Fili drew her arms from around his neck and moved her back so he could look into her face. "Don't worry, I'll head straight back, I'll not disturb your plans. But I need to ask you for something."

"Ask me at home. You're not going anywhere." She tried to smooth back a strand of his hair, darkened and plastered to his face by the rain. "You're saturated."

"So are you," he laughed. "Come then, Mindy can carry the both of us." He led her to his pony, tethered out of the rain behind the tree, and mounted. He leaned down and effortlessly pulled Sigrid up to sit sidesaddle in front of him, her skirts hampering her from sitting astride. She leaned into his body as he put his arms around her to grasp the reins, and he turned his pony and headed towards her house.

He dropped her at the front door and continued around to the stables. Sigrid ran inside, shaking as much water as she could out of Fili's coat and her skirts before hanging the coat up, stoking up the fire and setting a pot of water on it to warm. Bain and Tilda looked up from where they had been occupying themselves at the table, Tilda with a handful of wooden puzzles from the Mountain and Bain jotting on a parchment. They watched Sigrid in bemusement as she hurried back and forth.

"What's going on?" Tilda asked.

"We have a visitor," she said in passing, on her way to the linen press to hunt up some towels.

Bain frowned. "Who on earth would be foolish enough to be about in this awful weather?"

"Very few, I grant you," Fili answered as he came in at the back door, shrugging off his oilskin cloak. "Depends on the kind of incentive the fool has." He glanced at Sigrid, busy pouring warm water into a basin, then straightened and addressed himself back to Bain. "I've put up my pony in your stable with a bucket of oats, I trust that's all right, Bain?"

Bain, who Sigrid guessed was partly keen to act the man of the house in the absence of their father, and partly trying to atone for his rude comment, rose from his seat and shook Fili's hand. "Of course, Fili. Here, come clean up and get dry."

Fili washed at the basin and rubbed at his hair with a towel. "I had business in Dale this evening, and I thought you'd want to know that Mother invited your Da to stay at the Mountain until the rain clears."

"We figured that," piped up Tilda. "I'm glad you're here anyway, Fili. You can help me with these puzzles."

Fili smiled and took a seat beside Tilda. Sigrid carried the basin of water to the sink, then turned and leaned back on it, surveying the three people at the table. She sighed. As she made her way back to the table to sit down next to Fili, she confessed to herself that as soon as she'd run into his arms at the Green, she'd known how she wanted the evening to pan out, and puzzles with her little sister was not it.

* * *

Half an hour later, Tilda yawned.

"Bedtime, Tilda," said Bain.

"I know, Bain," said Tilda irritably. "Thanks, Fili. That was fun." She gave Fili a hug goodnight, and Sigrid helped her gather up her puzzles. Fili had barely looked at Sigrid all evening, giving his attention to playing and laughing with Tilda, and occasionally discussing something with Bain when he looked up from scribbling on his parchment, but she had never been more aware of him. Under the table, out of sight to her siblings, he had been running feather-light fingertips up and down the inside of her forearm, drawing circles with his thumb on the skin of her wrist and the centre of her palm, and generally taking every opportunity he could of bringing parts of his body into contact with hers without betraying anything to her brother and sister. He was adding fuel to the desire that was already kindled within her, and from the mischievous glints she caught in his eyes from time to time, she could see he knew it.

Tilda made her way to the stairs, and turned back towards them from the bottom step. "I'm off to bed. You can help Bain now, Fili. He's writing a love letter to Marta, the butcher's daughter."

Bain stood up angrily, and Tilda turned and fled, having delivered her payback for Bain's teasing the night before last. Avoiding any eye contact, his face bright red, Bain grabbed his parchment, rolled it up viciously, and stormed off to his room.

Fili and Sigrid looked at each other.

"Should you…" Fili began, pointing after them.

"No, I shouldn't," Sigrid replied, and she pulled him towards her and kissed him.

His response was immediate, and she knew his furtive teasing had been having the same effect on him as it had on her. He pulled her chair closer, then one hand slid into her hair to cup her head and hold her so he could deepen their kiss. When he released her lips, he brought her forehead to rest on his.

"Ah, beloved, how I've missed you," he murmured. "Here, come closer." He lifted her legs, her skirts still damp from the rain, and swung them around to rest on his lap. She kicked off her shoes and snuggled into him as best she could, and drew him back to her lips for another kiss.

His hand circled the roundness of her hip and thigh as he started kissing down her neck. "You know, love, I didn't come here tonight intending to seduce you."

"Why ever not?" she laughed impishly. "At any rate, it seems you have the idea pretty firmly in mind now."

She felt his chuckle as a warm breath against her collarbone, and his hand slid under her skirts and around one of her calves. "What about your brother and sister?"

"We'll just have to be quiet," she whispered.

He started trailing damp kisses back up her throat as his hand moved above her stocking to the smooth bare skin of her thigh, his thumb softly drawing circles on her skin as it had done on her wrist under the table. It was exquisite, and she shivered and leaned her head back.

"Ah, beloved, I don't know if want you to be quiet," he murmured. He lifted his head and tilted hers forward to look at him, his blue eyes intense in capturing her gaze. "I've missed you, Sigrid mine. I've missed your voice. I want to hear it moaning my name." And underneath her skirts his hand slid up her thigh to rub through her underclothes against her sex, and she melted. She clung to his shoulders and closed her eyes, and the breathy whisper that left her lips was his name. She heard him hum appreciatively, and then his fingers found a way through her undergarments, and he was inside her. She gasped, and she opened her eyes to see his, dark with desire, locked on her. He slowly slid his fingers in and out of her wet heat, watching her face, his pace deliberately unhurried and tantalising. He withdrew his damp fingers from her core, and slid the moisture along her folds to circle her nub, drawing another soft moan from her mouth, and then his fingers entered her again and resumed their slow, tantalising pace. It was both pleasure and torment, designed to keep her on the edge without letting her plunge over, and she wanted more, but she willed herself to stay in the moment and go with him wherever he wanted to take her. Her resolve lasted exactly five strokes of his fingers before it broke, and she pulled his head towards her and whispered, "Fili, I want you. I want all of you."

He nuzzled into her ear and whispered back, "Ah, Sigrid, love, you'd better show me where your bedroom is, or I'm going to take you right here on the kitchen table."


	8. Chapter 8

Sigrid took Fili's hand and led him upstairs to her room, shut the door, and leaned back on it. Fili had brought a candle, and he placed it on the table beside her bed, kicking off his boots at the same time. He turned and looked at her for a moment, then stepped forward, reached up and started unlacing her bodice, slowly pulling out the lace from one eyelet at a time.

Sigrid gave a half smile. "No knife this time?"

He didn't smile, and he didn't stop. "No."

He was continuing in the same vein as he had started at the table, every movement, every touch a tantalising mixture of pleasure and anticipation, heightening her already overloaded senses. She closed her eyes, her hands reaching behind her to the door for support, determined this time to stay with his pace and not give up on it as easily as she had done downstairs.

"Beloved, I've missed your beautiful eyes," he whispered as he removed her bodice, leaving only her loose white shirt between him and her skin. "The way you look at me, that look that makes me want to take you in my arms."

Sigrid took a slow deep breath, and opened her eyes. The candle glinted warmly off his glorious hair, but left his face in its flickering shadow, that and his desire making his eyes dark instead of their usual summery blue. He was so close she could feel his warm breath playing across the skin of her neck, the scent of him infusing the very air she breathed. She felt her control slipping again, so intense was her desire for him, and she refused to disguise it in her eyes.

"There. That's the look I've been waiting for," he whispered, and he took her face in his hands and claimed her lips hungrily. She sank her fingers into his hair and kissed him back, eagerly and deeply, her tongue delving and swirling to match his, and then she held on as his hands and lips moved down her neck to her breasts, kissing and nipping at them through the fabric of her shirt before drawing back to grasp the hem and lift it over her head. He fell back on them, his lips warm where they devoured first one then the other, tugging and laving at her nipples, and then he blew a soft breath across the moisture he had left behind, and she shivered, and whether it was from the sensation of cold or from pleasure she did not know.

She pulled him back to her lips, and fumbled with his shirt, impatient now to feel his skin under her fingers. The shirt hit the floor and she pressed her body against him, his heat warming her as she reached around to run her hands over the smooth broad expanse of his back. He felt behind her for the ties of her skirts, then her petticoat and her linen undergarment, and she kicked out of them as they slid down her legs, and then he slid out of her arms to fall to his knees in front of her.

"Ah, my love, my sweet, sweet Sigrid," he whispered. He lifted first one leg, then the other to remove her stockings, then ran his fingers, with the same feather-light touch that he had used on her all evening, up her legs to her thighs, and gently pressed them apart. Her breath was coming in short gasps, and she was trembling, such was the level of anticipation he had led her to, and she again closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the door.

"Amrâlimê. Look at me," she heard him murmur, and it cost her every shred of willpower she possessed to open her eyes and look down at him. He held her eyes and paused a moment longer, then leaned forward, still holding her gaze, and pressed his lips to her sex.

It was the purest pleasure she had ever known. Each time she and Fili had made love had been different – their fast, frantic coupling at the lake, his slow worship of her body later that night, her assertive seduction of him after the feast, and then in his bathing room and bedroom the next morning – and this was different again. He had played her body like she was his violin, having tuned her to the pitch he wanted, a fever pitch, and he was now drawing such sounds from her, gasps and moans and soft whispers of his name, that it was all she could do to remember that they needed to be quiet. It was all she could do to be capable of thinking at all. His tongue laved at her folds, sliding up and down and around in a whirl of pure sensation before entering her core again and again; his lips encircled her nub and sucked at it gently in fast, pulsing motions followed by slow, languorous strokes; and his fingers caressed her skin softly and opened her more fully to his attentions. She wanted it to go on forever, and at the same time she was desperate, desperate for him to end the sweet torment and send her over the edge, hopefully before her legs gave way beneath her. When he finally slid his finger inside her and stroked the sensitive bundle of nerves there, his tongue swirling on her, she knew she was lost. She held on to him for dear life as the heat in her body swelled and tipped over her like a wave, swelling again and again, and she opened her mouth in a soundless cry as its warmth spread throughout her body to her very fingertips. He lingered on her, drawing every last shudder from her trembling body, before picking her up and carrying her to the bed.

He lay down beside her, and she reached for him and held him tight, her pounding heart slowing and her panting breath starting to ease. She was overwhelmed, shaken to her foundations, and she didn't want to let him go. Finally she realised with a surge of tenderness that he was waiting for her, whispering soft words of love in her ear until she was ready, and she knew that he'd wait all night if she needed it. She pulled back to see his face, tears pricking at her eyes, and placed a hand on his cheek.

He saw the glistening in her eyes, and reached up a fingertip to catch a tear as it slid out of the corner of her eye.

"Tears, love?" he whispered in concern. She smiled softly and shook her head, her hand still caressing his cheek.

"No. Love, love." She pulled his head down to kiss him, his hair falling around her face and his braids softly sliding against her cheeks. He was still wearing his breeches, so she felt for the drawstring and pulled them open, reaching in to take hold of him. He pushed his breeches down and kicked them off, and he rested his forehead on hers for a moment as she stroked and caressed him, before bringing him where she wanted him and rubbing the head of his shaft in the moisture of her opening.

He buried his head in her neck and moaned, trying to muffle the sound, before he pulsed his way slowly inside her. His hands found hers and he laced their fingers together, bringing them up above her head and resting on his elbows. Not being able to move her hands, and not content to be still, she curled her legs over his, rubbing her toes along his calf muscles, and lifting her hips to urge him deeper. He filled her, not only her body, but her soul. All the little cracks and broken places within her, the scars from the horrors of Laketown, her doubts, her fears, were filled with his love for her and hers for him. His faith in her was her strength, and his love was her courage, and his body was her haven, and they were all three of them inside her, and she claimed them as her own. Her back arched, and her whole body clenched around him as he brought another climax to sweep relentlessly over her, and he pressed his mouth to hers to muffle their cries as he followed her soon afterwards.

They lay entwined and panting, and Sigrid clasped Fili's head to her breast. She could feel his heart pounding, his whole body pulsing with the strength of it. She held him until it slowed.

"Don't fall asleep," she whispered.

He lifted his head and shifted to collapse beside her, both of them rolling onto their sides so they were face to face.

"Mmmm. But I want to," he whispered back, part mischief and part lazy, spent satisfaction. He lifted a hand to brush a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "I want to sleep in your bed and wake up and do that again."

She grinned, and turned and kissed his fingers. "Tomorrow night. In our bed."

"Tomorrow? Do you mean…"

"Yes." Her grin widened.

He pulled her into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. "Ah, Sigrid mine. Are you sure? I can wait if you need more time…"

"I want to take Tilda out to a couple of farms during the day, but that's all I have left to do for now."

"Love, I meant you, how you feel. Have you found the answers you were looking for?"

Sigrid sighed. "It was the wrong question, Fili. I've just realised it. You have everything to do with my improvement, but that's how it should be." She rose onto her elbow and reached out to touch his face. "I'm your support, and you are mine. You remind me to believe in myself. So you see, it's me, and you, and both of us…" She looked down and pulled at the quilt with her fingers. "I can't explain it very well."

Fili caught her fingers and brought them up to his lips. "You explained it perfectly, beloved. It's called love." He drew her back into his arms and whispered into her ear. "I'll come for you tomorrow afternoon to take you home. Now only say you forgive me for tonight, for disregarding your request to be on your own, and I'll be the happiest dwarf in the kingdom." His voice turned sheepish. "I really did come only to ask you for something."

"There's nothing to forgive. And you have to know, you could ask me for anything right now, and I'd give it. What is it?"

He kissed her head. "Will you give me a lock of your hair?"

She pulled back in surprise, stifling a laugh. "Is that all? Of course I will." She snuggled back into his side. "Now don't fall asleep. It would be too awkward with Bain and Tilda in the morning."

He pulled the quilt out from underneath them and spread it over her, and Sigrid allowed herself time to luxuriate in the delicious sensations still coursing through her body. With Fili's arms around her, she was reminded of the dream she had had on waking that morning, and she reflected blissfully upon how the reality of Fili's love was far, far better than any dream. Then another thought occurred to her.

"Fili?"

"Yes, love?"

"You weren't really serious about the kitchen table, were you?"

She felt him chuckle under his breath. "Of course not." He snuggled her closer, and she knew he was grinning. "Why? Did you think I was?"

Was she willing to confess to him that for one wild, fleeting, breath-taking instant she had actually considered it? She smiled to herself. Maybe. But not right now.

* * *

She woke the next morning, still in Fili's arms, with the light of the dawn creeping in between the shutters of the window.


	9. Chapter 9

She had woken curled on her side, facing away from Fili, and he was curled around her at her back with his arm draped over her waist. His arm was heavy, and she lifted it higher to relieve the pressure, clasping his hand and drawing his forearm up between her breasts. The movement evidently woke him, because his arm flexed and drew her closer, and his lips nuzzled into the back of her neck.

"Mmm, good morning, beloved," he murmured into her hair.

She whispered back over her shoulder. "Good morning, my love."

"I love waking up like this. With you." He squeezed her against his body, and she had to admit that she loved it too. The waking-up-in-Fili's-arms part was bliss; it was the part where they were in her bed under her Da's roof that had given her pause last night and had prompted her to ask him to leave. Behind her she felt Fili raise his head from the pillow to look at the shutters, and she waited for the penny to drop.

"Oh no. You wanted me to leave. I'm so sorry, love. I'll sneak out the window."

Sigrid grinned at the thought of Fili climbing down the outside of her house from her upstairs window, and clasped his arm tighter. "No, don't go. There's no need for sneaking." She drew in a deep breath. "I've been thinking. Everyone who was at the feast knows we're together, and anyone who wasn't there would have been filled in by the gossips, no doubt. I guess it's pointless being coy about it now."

"And your brother and sister?"

"Tilda will be happy to see you. It's just Bain. He's old enough to suspect what we were up to last night."

"So?"

She turned around to face him. "So? It's embarrassing."

Fili laughed. "What is he, seventeen? Eighteen? Old enough to be sweethearting with the butcher's daughter, anyway. Trust me, all he's thinking of is how he can further his own cause."

It was Sigrid's turn to laugh. "You're probably right. In any case, I'm glad you're still here, because I want to talk to you." She found his hand and clasped his fingers, idly swinging it back and forth in the air. "This week, working here in Dale… I've really enjoyed it, Fili, and I've realised don't want to give it up completely. I've agreed with Tilda to come and keep working with her a few days a week."

Fili's brow contracted. "And the Mountain? Mother wants to train you to take over. It won't be too much?"

She hesitated, trying to find the right words. "I've asked people to help out, so the workload is a lot less. And Tilda's going to do well, but she needs me here for a while longer. And the fact is," she continued, pulling their clasped hands to her chest, her face serious, "I'm never going to take over from Dis, am I? She'll outlive me."

Fili pulled back, stunned and stricken. He shook his head, and Sigrid knew it wasn't so much a denial of her statement as a refusal to accept it.

"You know it's true. Da made me face it the other night. Fili, I love you, and I'll be with you for as long as I live. But compared to you, that's not going to be very long, is it? It makes more sense for me to help out here in Dale, where I'm needed, than to train for a role that in all likelihood I'll never get to fulfil."

Fili closed his eyes and shook his head again, and when he opened them, Sigrid could see that they were glistening with tears. He gazed at her, his heart in his eyes, all his sunny lightness for the moment gone, subsumed in emotion.

"Sigrid, beloved, don't. Don't think about it." He pulled his hand out of her clasp to reach up and frame her face, his voice low and intense. "Look, I know you're right. I've known it from the start. Why do you think I've rushed things along so much?" He stroked her cheek with his thumb, and a tear fell from the corner of his eye. Sigrid reached up between them to wipe it away with the back of her finger. "You're going to fade away from me, far too soon, and I'm going to lose you. But we don't have to think about that, not now, not until we have to."

She drew in a deep breath, her own eyes starting to fill with tears, and she turned her head to kiss his fingers. "Oh, my love, my Fili, I know you don't like to worry about things you can't control. But I can't do that. I need to think about it, because it has an impact on the choices I make now, today. I want to be realistic so I can make the best choices I can."

Fili shook his head again, but the anguish in his eyes had softened, though it hadn't disappeared. "My sweet, sweet Sigrid. I've never known you not to make the right choice."

She grinned at him through her tears. "Except for working myself half to death rather than facing my fears, you mean. But luckily for me," she continued, reaching up both hands to frame his face, "I also chose you." She leaned in and kissed him.

His arms slid around her body and tightened, pulling her against him. She threaded her fingers into his hair, and deepened her kiss, wanting to give him comfort, wanting it herself. He rolled onto his back, clasping her tight to bring her on top of him.

She released his lips, and brushed the tip of her nose back and forth against his. "Do you remember what you said to me that first night on the parapet?"

"I remember wanting to kiss you." He reached up to claim her lips. "That hasn't changed."

She smiled. "You said that your people like to celebrate whenever they can, because peace doesn't last forever. Something like that."

"Mmm, wise words. I must have been trying to impress you."

"You did." He interrupted her to claim another kiss. "What I'm trying to say is that nothing lasts forever. We're no different, you and I. Whatever time we have is precious, be it fifty years or two hundred and fifty. We have to make the most of it."

He stopped and placed his hand on her cheek, and again his heart was in his eyes. Too late, it dawned on her that he already knew, he was already acutely aware of how precious his time with her was, and her continuing to press the issue in this way was giving him pain. His way of coping was different to hers, and she needed to let him deal with it in his own way, just as he had when he had stood beside her at Laketown. Her battle there had been with the past, whereas his was with the future, a future that he was going to have to face without her. Her heart ached to think of it, but she knew, just as he had, that she couldn't fight the battle for him. If he didn't want to think about it right now, then so be it, she would do what he needed and take his mind off it. She rolled herself over, taking him with her, and put her arms around his neck from underneath him.

"You know how you said you wanted to sleep in my bed and wake up and make love again?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, and the dimple reappearing in his cheek was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. She grinned her wickedest smile.

"Two down, one to go."

* * *

He didn't know what he had done to deserve such a woman, but whatever it was, he was more thankful for it every day. She was so different to him in the way she approached things, and he had to work hard to understand her sometimes, but that was part of what he loved about her, that she challenged his thinking. On the other hand, the way she understood him, body and soul, seemed effortless. He'd been unable to find the words just now to express how painful it was to have to think about losing her when he'd only just found her, and she had seen it in his eyes and had understood anyway. She had stopped, just like that, and changed the subject – if that was the term for it. When he had seen the light through the shutters and realised that he'd fallen asleep, he'd thought he was in for a quick shove out the window and a lonely ride home, yet here he was, still in Sigrid's bed, with her sweet body underneath him and her arms and legs wrapped around him. She was his and he was hers, and oh, the look in her eyes, the things it made him want to do to her… but this wasn't the time or the place. It was already past dawn, and there was more chance of them being overheard this morning than there had been last night. They'd have to be quick and quiet, but like the rest of her, her invitation was irresistible, and he wasn't going to disappoint her.

* * *

Sigrid tried to reach down between them to take hold of Fili, knowing that they would have to be quick, but he moved down her body, out of reach of her hands. He was kissing his way down to her breasts, and the slow laving he gave her when he got there told her that he was going to attend to her pleasure first, no matter how quick they had to be. She slid her hands into his hair and held him to her as he kissed and tongued his way around her breasts, first one and then the other, and when his hand slid down over her stomach to the junction of her thighs, she closed her eyes and melted into the sensation. His fingers began an insistent rhythm, sliding wetly up and down the whole of her sex, circling her bud, and dipping in and out of her core, and though she tried to be quiet, small breathy moans would escape her lips. He hummed his encouragement against her breasts, communicating his own pleasure at her reactions, and increased his pace. She felt her climax building faster than she thought possible, and as it crashed over her he moved up to her mouth and muffled her cries with his lips. Now back within reach of her hands, she grasped him firmly and guided him to where she wanted him before she had even stopped trembling, such was her desire to feel the comfort of his body, and to give him solace in return. He slid inside her slowly, so slowly, and she was content to let him set his own pace, knowing that it was what he needed from her. He held her gently and began moving inside her, slowly but decisively, and as he moved she found that it was she who needed to take solace from him. She had caused him pain, unintentionally certainly, but still the knowledge of it grieved her, and she wanted to know that he forgave her. He leaned on one arm as he brought a hand up to her face, stroking back her hair and caressing her cheek with his thumb, and she knew he did. He forgave her for the pain she had unwittingly caused him now, and he didn't blame her for the anguish he would inevitably face in the future, on that day, whenever it might be, when he would be left behind without her. It was the choice they had made when they had chosen each other, and though he didn't want to think about it at present, she knew that deep down he accepted the consequences. He talked all the time of her courage, but she knew, she knew, he was stronger than she was, stronger than he gave himself credit for. She put her arms around him and held him close as he increased the intensity of his movements, and held his head to her shoulder as he closed his eyes and spent himself inside her, softly moaning her name.

They held each other for a long time. Sigrid finally gave Fili one last kiss, and sat up in the bed.

"Come on. You know I want to stay, but we can't. Wrong bed."

He shook his head at her, his eyes soft. "Never. Not if you're in it."

She looked at him and smiled, and reached out a hand to his face. He caught it and kissed it.

"I'm going down to see what's happening. Stay here, I'll bring some water back for you."

She got up, dressed swiftly in her blouse and skirt, and made her way downstairs. Tilda was at the kitchen table, her puzzles spread out in front of her. She looked up as Sigrid approached.

"Good morning, sleepy head. Want some breakfast?"

"In a minute I will. I'm going to warm some wash water first. Where's Bain?"

"He's still mad at me. He's taken the cows out to the far paddock in a huff." Tilda looked back down at her puzzles and muttered under her breath something that sounded like "Serves him right."


	10. Chapter 10

Sigrid returned to her room with a pitcher of warm water and a fresh towel. Fili sat up as she entered.

"Sorry, we can't all have bathing rooms," she grinned. "Here it's just a basin and a cloth." She poured half the contents of the pitcher into the basin on her wash stand, and sat down on the bed next to Fili. She looked at him and sighed. He put his arm around her and pulled her close.

"You worry too much about other people's opinions, love," he whispered. "Surely it's no-one's business but yours who you have in your bed."

"Yes, but it's Da's business what goes on under his roof, and you know as well as I do that if he'd been here last night…" She leaned her head on his. "But that sigh wasn't about that. That sigh was for me."

She drew back and looked into Fili's face again. One of her hands reached out to his hair, taking a lock between her fingers and smoothing it back from his face. Her beautiful blue-grey eyes were enigmatic, but Fili could see a smile playing around the corners of her mouth.

"If only you held your hand out to me, Fili of Erebor, I'd follow anywhere you led me," she murmured, slowly shaking her head from side to side. "And quite frankly, I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

His heart, which had swelled at the first part of her words, was thrown into confusion. "Beloved. How can it be a bad thing?"

She held up her thumb and index finger a small distance apart. "Fili, I was that close to saying yes to the kitchen table last night. Imagine if Da had come home."

He froze, speechless, absorbed in contemplation of the image she had just conjured in his mind.

"I think I'll go freshen up in Da's room. I know what will happen if I stay here." She blithely kissed him, rose and grabbed the pitcher, and headed to the doorway. She looked back at him with a smile from the door, then turned and closed it, leaving Fili still stunned, and wondering whether he'd be better off with ice water instead of warm in the wash basin.

* * *

The rain had cleared during the night, leaving the ground sodden and water streaming down the gutters. Riding out to the farmlets with Tilda would be a muddy and slippery proposition, Sigrid realised as she made her way to the stables, but their horses were sound and steady, and the conditions were not going to stop her from heading out. She found Fili there, brushing down his pony and preparing for his ride home. He smiled at Sigrid as she held the pony's bridle, rubbing her long face and scratching her forelock, while he saddled her and tightened the girth strap. When all was ready he turned and took Sigrid in his arms.

"I'll be back at four. Does that give you enough time?"

"Plenty." She looked earnestly into his face. "I should have sent word earlier – Fili, could you ask Tauriel and Dis to come and stand with me? I'd like Dis to stand in my mother's place, if she would."

The look that appeared in Fili's eyes at her request – a poignant mixture of tenderness, gratitude, pride and wonder – communicated his thoughts as eloquently as any words. "Ah, beloved. I'll ask them. You know they will come."

He took her face in his hands and gave her a sweet, lingering kiss. "See you at four."

"I'll be here," she whispered. His thumb stroked the roundness of her cheek, back and forth, as he looked into her eyes, then he released her and mounted his pony. She watched him turn Mindy around, and he was about to head off when she called out to him.

"Fili, wait!"

She unbound her hair and felt under the nape of her neck to separate out one long slender lock. She twitched her fingers around and held it up to Fili.

He rode up beside her, reached down to his boot for a knife, and used it to gently but swiftly slice through the hair she was holding. He took it, kissed it, and placed it in one of the pockets of his coat.

"I almost forgot why I came," he grinned. "You have that effect on me, Sigrid mine."

He leaned down towards her, and she craned up, standing on the tips of her toes, for another kiss. Then he turned Mindy again with a grin, all fair hair and dimples and smiling eyes of the sunniest blue, and set off back to the Mountain.

* * *

The roads around Dale were indeed muddy, and in some places Sigrid and Tilda's horses splashed through water up to their fetlocks. They had headed northeast, fording the river about a mile downstream of the waterfalls, where it spread, wide and shallow, into chattering rivulets across a level bed of small rocks. The runoff from the rains had increased the depth and speed of the water rushing across the ford, and it swirled around their horses' legs as they crossed, but it wasn't deep enough to cause either the two sisters or their mounts any concern. The farmland in this area varied amongst grain crops, pastureland and patchworked market gardens, between areas laid waste by the dragon that were still to be rehabilitated, and it was to a family who had recently settled in the area with plans to establish an orchard that Tilda and Sigrid were headed.

They found the cosy farmer's cottage easily enough, and were received gladly by the family, a husband, wife and three daughters younger than Tilda. They were given a tour of the proposed orchard, and Sigrid nodded at the mentions of green manure crops, soil quality and drainage, understanding enough about the process in general terms, though the details eluded her. She did make note of Torben's request for assistance to dig out the planting holes in early spring, when he would be taking delivery of the dormant saplings. The family then invited the sisters to stay and lunch at their cottage, and they accepted with pleasure. The discussion turned to their immediate needs, which were well taken care of, already having a kitchen garden flourishing in the back yard and animals in the barn, which the small girls were eager to show them. After lunch the sisters left the family with a cheery farewell and assurances of the requested assistance, and set off for their next visit.

The other farmlet that Sigrid had intended to visit was not far away, and they talked as they splashed companionably through the muddy lanes.

"Think of it, Sigrid, plums, quinces, cherries!"

"It will take a couple of years for their trees to start bearing fruit, but yes, they do sound delicious." Sigrid's eyes drifted to the horizon. "I remember Mamma preserving quinces when I was small, before you were born, before we came to Laketown. The smell, I can't even describe it, Tilda. It's so good."

"Mmm, I can't wait to try some. I didn't get any of that information about the soil, though. I don't have to learn all that, do I?"

Sigrid laughed. "Not unless you want to. People are keen to share their interests, so they sometimes go into a lot of detail. If you want to know more about it, you can ask them questions. Otherwise, just nod politely. We can't be experts in everything."

Tilda nodded, her face thoughtful. "Yes, I saw you doing that. The main part was when Torben asked for help, wasn't it? To dig the holes, in the spring."

Once again, Tilda's perceptiveness impressed Sigrid. "That's right. It's not the sort of job he can do on his own. We have to let Da know about that, so he can organise people to help."

Tilda nodded again. "And who are we seeing next?"

"Arrild. You know he lost his wife at Laketown, I want to check how he's going. Look, that's his cottage up ahead."

Arrild, a pleasant, kindly man, still young, was pleased to see the two sisters, though Sigrid recognised the signs that he was still grieving in his sorrowful eyes and quiet demeanour. He was a dairy farmer, his two boys of eight and ten old enough to help, and the farm was clean and well-run, with plenty of food on the table. Sigrid, however, noticed the threadbare shirts and badly-patched breeches on the two boys, and suspected that Arrild could do with some assistance on the needlework side of things. Sharing a pot of tea at his kitchen table, she told him about the group that Britte had just taken over, volunteers who would sew new clothes for his boys if he would provide the materials, and the look of relief and gratitude on his face nearly brought tears to Sigrid's eyes. He had known they needed new things, and had not had the slightest idea of how to go about getting them, the situation compounded as yet another reminder of his loss, it being his wife who had been the one to take care of those sorts of things. Sigrid well understood his feelings of helplessness, so similar to the position she'd been in only weeks before, and encouraged him to come and chat with her or her father, or to seek out Jerrik, whenever he was finding things difficult. They left him after a pleasant hour, smiling and thankful, his arms around his boys. As they rode away, Sigrid reflected on how time and the right support could bring healing, even to the deepest grief. It was working for her, and she believed it would work for Arrild as well.

They returned the way they had come, considerably muddier but also happier, pleased with the help they'd been able to provide, especially to Arrild. At the ford, they walked their horses slowly through the rushing water side by side, and had just reached the opposite bank when someone stepped out unexpectedly in front of them, blocking their path.

They drew up their horses.

"Lady Sigrid. You'll not remember me."

Sigrid looked closely at the speaker for a moment. "Indeed, I do remember you." She recognised the dwarf who had approached her at the New Year's feast, the one Fili didn't know, who had said he wanted to talk to her but had then disappeared. "You were at the feast."

"You're a hard person to find, Lady Sigrid." One side of his mouth rose in a mirthless smile. "Hard to find alone, I mean."

Sigrid frowned, confused. "I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"Gorin. I need to speak with you, Lady Sigrid. Now, if you please."

The form of his words was polite, but his tone was almost menacing, and Sigrid shifted uncomfortably in her saddle. "Gorin. I'm more than happy to speak to you, but unfortunately now is not a good time. We need to be getting back. Why don't you come with us, Fili will be arriving any minute, and we can…"

"No." Gorin stepped forward and took hold of her horse's bridle. "You're not going back. You're staying here."

"What are you doing?" Sigrid was becoming genuinely scared. She gathered her reins and tried to turn her horse, but the dwarf's grip on the bridle was firm. "Let go of my horse."

"You're staying here. We're going to talk." There was a note of desperation in the dwarf's voice. Sigrid glanced at Tilda. Her face was ashen, and there was an unreadable expression on her face as she stared at the dwarf in front of them. Sigrid spared another quick glance back towards the Mountain, its waterfalls only a mile upriver, knowing that Fili would be on his way soon, if not on the road already. She looked back at her sister and caught her eye.

"Tilda, go!" Sigrid kicked her horse forward, and she held on as it pranced in front of Gorin, but he was strong, and did not let go of it. The distraction was enough however for Tilda to spur her horse around the dwarf, and she flew off up the road at a flat gallop.

"She'll be back any minute with help. Fili, my father, maybe even Thorin… Let me go. I'll tell them you didn't hurt me, and things will go better for you. Let me go."

The dwarf screwed his eyes shut and shook his head. "You shouldn't have done that." He opened his eyes, and there was a hopelessness in them as he stared up at Sigrid. She looked down, and saw his free hand slowly draw a small blade from a sheath at his side. He pointed it at her.

"Please get down from your horse, Lady Sigrid."


	11. Chapter 11

Fili's heart had never felt so light as he and his family rode out from the mountain. It had taken no time at all to finish his wedding ring, his brute strength easily forcing the mithril ingot through the rollers and hammering it into shape, and both his and Sigrid's rings were now sitting safely in his pocket. They were a bit early, Dis and Tauriel hoping to help Sigrid prepare, and his own nervous excitement getting the better of him. They rode out past the waterfalls, the clearing skies and their elevated position giving them a fine view down into the vale, where the River Running flowed down through a rock-strewn, bushy slope towards Dale, while the road curved around to the right, hugging the Ravenhill spur of the Mountain before turning back towards the town.

Tauriel, who was riding between himself and Kili, was staring keenly at the river below them. She pointed down into the vale. "Sigrid and Tilda are there, at the ford."

Fili grinned. He knew the spot, a mile or so downriver; they must have been visiting farms below the mountain's south-eastern slopes. "You've got good eyes, Tauriel."

She frowned. "There's a dwarf. He's got hold of Sigrid's horse." She looked at Fili. "He has a blade."

Fili blanched, a cold, sinking feeling creeping across his skin. He knew who it was.

He didn't wait for any further information. He kicked Mindy into a gallop, a treacherous speed to be taking on the slippery road, but he didn't care. If that dwarf harmed so much as a hair on Sigrid's head, he'd kill him. He'd do it with his bare hands.

Seeing Fili take off down the road, Kili immediately spurred his horse forward and followed him. Tauriel turned back to Thorin and Dis, who had drawn up in confusion behind her. "Sigrid is in trouble at the ford. We'll sort it out. Take my horse and go on to Bard's house, we'll meet you there." She threw her reins to Thorin and leapt off her horse, sliding gracefully down the embankment at the side of the road, and started running, fleet and sure-footed, through the rocks and bushes on the steep slope straight towards the ford.

* * *

Sigrid looked at the knife. It was no orc-blade. And Gorin was no orc. She drew herself up. "Your blade doesn't frighten me. I've seen worse than that. Worse than you."

Gorin tapped at the air with the knife. "But that's the whole point, isn't it, Lady Sigrid? You have to tell me… I'll make you tell me… how did you do it?"

His words made no sense. "How did I do what?"

He screwed up his face again, desperate, frustrated. "I saw you, in the hall. I heard you. You said, 'how do they all go on like nothing happened?' I saw the look on your face. I knew right then that you were like me. So tell me, I have to know. How did you make it stop?"

Sigrid shook her head, trying to comprehend what was happening. Behind her, she could hear hoofbeats, approaching fast. Had Tilda brought help so soon? It didn't seem possible, but no ordinary traveller would be going at that speed. Then suddenly, she heard something whizz past her ear, then a sharp clang, and the dwarf was wringing his hand, his knife spinning away to fall on the ground. She heard the rider behind her pull up, and she turned to see Tilda on her horse, another arrow already nocked in her bow, drawn and pointed at the dwarf.

"Stand down, dwarf, or the next one's through your heart."

* * *

A minute later, Tauriel arrived at the ford. She saw the dwarf sitting on the ground, his head in his hands. Tilda and Sigrid had dismounted, Tilda's bow was slung over her shoulder, and Sigrid was talking earnestly to the dwarf, her hand on his back. They looked up at Tauriel as she approached.

"Sigrid. I saw this dwarf holding a knife on you."

"It's all right, Tauriel. He's no danger, except maybe to himself. He's one of Dain's people. He was in the battle, and he's been having flashbacks, just like I was."

The sound of hoofbeats drew their eyes back to the road, and they could see Fili racing towards them, followed closely by his brother. Fili drew Mindy up sharply, hooves sliding on the slippery road, and he leapt down, running straight for the dwarf. Tauriel stepped in front of him, her hands outstretched. Cold fury was glittering in Fili's eyes like ice, and Tauriel braced herself.

"Fili, stop! Please!" Sigrid's ringing shout reached him through his rage, and he slowed, just time enough for Kili to tackle him from behind in a bear hug.

"Easy there, brother. Look, Sigrid's fine. She's fine, Fili. It's over. Let Tauriel deal with it."

Sigrid ran to Fili. He stopped struggling in Kili's arms, and Kili let him go, satisfied that he'd come to his senses, and moved away to join Tauriel in talking to the dwarf. Fili looked at Sigrid for a moment, then closed his eyes, and with a huge exhalation of breath pulled her to him in a crushing embrace.

"Sigrid. Sigrid. I thought…"

"No, love, it's all right. Look at me, Fili. I'm here. I'm fine."

He held her for a long time, drawing deep breaths, giving rein to his relief. Then he pulled back and took her face in his hands.

"It's my fault. I had doubts about that dwarf as soon as I saw him approach you at the feast, and I didn't follow them up. I should have. I let you down."

She grabbed the front of his jacket and tried to shake him. "No. You didn't let me down. You didn't let anyone down. You couldn't have known what he was going to do. I think he barely knew himself. He's half mad, Fili, desperate. He needs help."

He gathered her into his arms again, more gently this time. "Right now I don't care. You're safe. That's all that matters." He held her to him, his face buried in her neck and his hand cupping the back of her head, until Tauriel approached them.

"Fili." He broke their embrace and turned to face Tauriel, but he didn't let go of Sigrid, keeping her by his side, his arm tight around her.

"His name's Gorin, one of Dain's people. I've asked Kili to take up him to Jerrik. He's been having problems, flashbacks from the battle, nightmares, similar to what Sigrid experienced but I gather it's very uncommon for a dwarf. He was met with nothing but contempt or ridicule whenever he tried to talk about it. He overheard Sigrid in the hall, and then he saw her at the feast, seemingly healed, and he thought if he got her alone, she could tell him how she did it."

Fili's face was hard. "Sigrid says he needs help, so let him have it. Just keep him away from me."

Tauriel smiled grimly and nodded. She turned and took a step, then turned back to Fili, and tilted her head at him.

"You were going to try to run straight through me back there, weren't you?"

The anger was slowly dissipating in Fili's body, and he allowed himself a small rueful smile. "Probably," he shrugged. "Sorry."

"There's no need to apologise." Tauriel looked at him, and there was a gleam in her eye. "It would have been interesting to see what would have happened."

* * *

Kili had taken Gorin on ahead. Fili, Sigrid, Tilda and Tauriel walked back to Dale slowly, leading their horses, using the time to talk through the incident and recover their composure. Tilda beamed with pride as Sigrid related how she had disarmed Gorin.

"I remembered everything you taught me, Tauriel," Tilda said. "The whole time he was in front of us, I kept thinking, 'if only I could get to my bow.'"

Tauriel smiled at her. "Agoreg vae, Taurauthiel."

"Tilda, where did you get that bow from?" said Sigrid. "You weren't gone two minutes."

Tilda looked sheepish. "It was the one I used at the Mountain. I didn't think Da would let me keep it, so I hid it in a hollow tree just up the road there. I've been getting up early in the morning and practising. It was pure luck we happened to be out this way."

Sigrid shook her head at her sister. "No wonder you've been going to bed so early. And here I thought it was all the work we've been doing."

* * *

Once they arrived back at Bard's house, Fili took Sigrid's hands and drew her aside, his face full of concern. "Beloved. We don't have to do this now. The handfasting I mean. If you need time, let's take it."

"No, I'm fine, Fili, really. I was never in any real danger, he just wanted to scare me, not hurt me."

"Are you sure, love? I'm thinking about what Jerrik said, the stress…"

"No, it's nothing like Laketown." She reached up and placed her palm on his cheek. "In any case, I think it's you that had the worst of it, my love. I saw your face. You were ready to kill that dwarf." She paused; he didn't disagree with her. "Do you want to take some time?"

"No, it's done now. All I need is to know that you're safe." He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. "Though if someone were to offer me a stiff drink, I wouldn't say no."

She smiled at him. "Here's an idea. Why don't you take the men down to the tavern, have that drink, and meet me at the Green in an hour." She pulled him closer. "This won't spoil our day, love. I won't let it."

He shook his head, slowly. Her face fell. "It's a good thing it's me you're marrying, Sigrid of Dale," he said. "Only a dwarf could match you for stubbornness." She grinned. He took her face in his hands. "Or courage," he whispered.

"You keep telling me I have courage," she whispered back. "I believed you."

* * *

An hour later, in the fading crimson light of the glowing sunset, Sigrid walked slowly across the Green with Dis, Tilda and Tauriel accompanying her. At the north end of the Green, near the tree where she had rushed into his arms in the rain, stood Fili, with his brother beside him, and his uncle, Bard and Bain standing in a semicircle nearby. He watched her walking towards him, his love, his Sigrid, so sweet, passionate, generous and loving, beautiful in a plain skirt and bodice of blue, her hair braided in a simple, elegant twist on the back of her head. As he looked at her he knew she was walking towards him not as the Lady of Dale, nor as the bride of the future King under the Mountain, but as herself, Sigrid, and he knew that she chose him, Fili, and loved him, for himself alone. He smiled, and held out his hand to her, and she came to him and took it. Dis stood beside her, and Tilda and Tauriel stepped into position to complete the circle around the two of them.

He gently turned her hand over and placed in her palm a ring, the ring that she would put on his finger. She took it up and looked at it, a wide, hammered band of mithril with a central inset channel in which lay, secured under thin facets of clear crystal, a tiny braided lock of her hair.

She looked at him, and it was the look he had hoped to see, full of wonder, admiration and love, and his eyes reflected it back to her as he lifted a hand to stroke her cheek.

"I could think of no gem more precious, amrâlimê."

Hands clasped in hands, they spoke to each other the simple, timeless words of intent that bound them together as one: "I take you as my husband"; "I take you as my wife." Sigrid placed Fili's ring on his finger, her eyes shining with love, and he took her slender hand and gently slid her ring into place, and his heart was filled with such love, and joy, and pride, he thought it must break. She lifted her hand and looked at her ring, and again, her eyes expressed to him her love and awe at the beauty he had created. For her ring he had carved in relief his emblem, laid on its side and repeated all the way around the polished mithril band, and into the centre of the three designs that were to sit uppermost on her finger, he had set three of the brilliant white gems from the pendant.

"Fili, it's so beautiful. You made this for me. I don't know what to say."

Her eyes, her beautiful grey-blue slanting eyes, gazed at him, and indeed there was nothing left to say, as there were no words to express what he felt, but there was one thing that remained to be done. He took her face in his hands, and softly pressed his lips to hers.

Kili whooped and slapped him on the shoulder, and they laughed as they broke their kiss, and turned to the rest of their family as they stepped forward to embrace them, and with handshakes and kisses and tears, accepted their congratulations. Kili winked to Tilda, and the two of them disappeared, and moments later everyone realised where they had gone: all the bells in the belltower started pealing, ringing gaily in a mad cacophony that brought the villagers of Dale out of their doorways or leaning out of their windows; and amidst the confusion of laughter and joy and shouted congratulations from the villagers, Fili picked Sigrid up and threw her, laughing, over his shoulder, and carried her to his pony, waiting patiently behind the tree.

He lifted her onto Mindy's back and climbed up behind her.

"One abduction, as requested, sweet wife of mine."

She laughed again and leaned into him as he put his arms around her to take hold of the reins, and he turned his horse and together they set off towards the Mountain.


End file.
